Out of the Ashes
by JamiW
Summary: Third story in the series containing "In From the Cold" and "Into the Fire".  Post-Loyalty, so forget everything you know about season 10.  BA and Logan/Rodgers
1. Chapter 1

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"How is that possible?"<p>

"Are you doubting the veracity of the report?"

I was staring at the verdict from Logan's requalification efforts at the shooting range.

Expert marks.

Nine days post gunshot through the hand.

"I'm…impressed," I admitted.

"Yeah, Liz says that all the time," he stated with a broad grin.

"Detective," I admonished, although I couldn't keep from smiling at him.

"Sorry, Cap," he said unrepentantly. "But yeah, it's official. You have to put me back on full duty."

"I'm sorry. I…_have_ to?"

He looked down at his shoes for a minute and then glanced back up at me, and he almost reminded me of Bobby with his boyish sheepishness, and I made a mental note to ask Liz how in the world she ever denied him anything when he looked at her like that.

Although maybe she didn't.

I wouldn't blame her.

"Captain Eames," he began smoothly. "Can I _please_ go back to full duty?"

I gave him a nod and then sat down on the front edge of my desk and said, "Call your partner in here."

He smiled fully again, and then turned and went to the door.

"Hey, Goren!" he called out unceremoniously across the squad room, and then he looked back at me expectantly and asked, "So you have a case for us? Because I've been riding that desk for a week and I'm starting to get saddle sores."

I could think of a few things to say to that remark, but every single thought would be very un-captain-like, so I bit back a smile and waited for Bobby to come into my office.

It only took him a moment, and then the two of them stood in front of me with the anticipation of long-time farm-leaguers who'd just been called up to the bigs.

"It's only been a week," I reminded them with amusement.

"What?" Bobby asked innocently.

"And not even that long for you," I pointed out. "You were helping Yuille and Wyatt all last week, so what's with the barely-checked excitement?"

"Helping isn't the same as doing," Logan said, answering for Bobby.

"And he's been on LUD duty," Bobby added, returning the favor. "We're ready to get our _own_ case."

"You're ready to steamroll over the boss in an effort to find justice at any cost necessary," I corrected.

"Um…okay, maybe, yeah," they both mumbled together.

I held Bobby's gaze for a moment longer than I probably should have because admittedly, sometimes I have a hard time looking away. He's just so…unbelievably sexy and even though we've been together since last summer, I still get that same wave of pleasure through me just from looking at his face.

But work has to take precedence sometimes, and this was one of those times, since he and Logan were still staring at me, salivating at the prospect of a fresh mystery to solve.

So I put them out of their misery.

I reached back and picked up a file from my desk and then held it out to them.

"Okay, here's what we've got. Two victims last week, both young females, one in SoHo and one in Queens. The 9th and the 114th started haggling over jurisdiction yesterday because the geniuses managed to piece together the fact that the murders are related, and then early this morning a third girl was found."

"Where?" Bobby asked as he thumbed through the meager file. It contained the ME's reports on each of the victims, but not much more since we hadn't retrieved the data from the investigating precincts yet.

"Lower east side, so this guy's all over the map."

"7th precinct," Bobby mumbled with a nod. "So three jurisdictions…probably not an accident. Dump sites or murder scenes?"

I knew his question was rhetorical because we had no way of knowing the answer to that just yet.

But I'd bet my lunch money that he'd know it before the end of the day.

"So at the risk of sounding like less than a genius," Logan said. "What's the connection?"

"Post-mortem mutilation," Bobby mumbled. "Acid on the fingertips and the teeth were smashed all to hell."

"So we don't have any ID's?"

"No," I answered. "Except for the third girl. And she's the reason why we got the case. The ME just pinned down her identity, and Moran gave me the official word ten minutes ago."

"Who is she?' Logan asked, because her name wasn't listed on the reports that I had in the file. At the time the reports was printed, all three victims were still listed as Jane Does.

"Sally O'Hara. She's the daughter of a Connecticut senator."

"Oh, so this thing's going to be low-key," Logan said smartly.

"Exactly."

"How'd the ME ID her?" Bobby asked me.

"Her DNA is in the system. Apparently, she's adopted and she registered on one of those websites where adopted kids search for their biological parents."

"We need to get ahead of this thing," Bobby said. "The press is going to be all over it."

"Uh huh," Logan agreed. "We need to ID those other two girls…we have to track their movements, find out if their paths ever crossed…"

The two of them went back and forth for a moment, mapping out their strategy and then paused and looked at me.

"Get going," I said encouragingly. "And try not to piss anybody off just yet, okay?"

They both nodded and appeared sincere about their response, but we all knew it was just a matter of time.

With a case like this, there were going to be secrets and egos and posturing…

"Thanks," Logan said to me, then he glanced at Bobby and added, "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Logan headed for the door, first as always, and Bobby was close to his heels.

"Logan, I'm glad you're back," I said. "I wouldn't have wanted to give this case to anyone but the two of you. So get it done, okay?"

"You got it, Boss," Logan answered as he slipped out of the room.

Bobby paused in the doorway and looked back at me.

"You know I could've worked it alone, right?" Bobby said quietly once we were alone. The door was still open, but the activity in the squad room was such that no one would ever hear him. "I mean, if he hadn't re-qualified. I still could've handled it for you."

"If he hadn't come back, I was going to work it with you," I told him with a small smile.

Because that was what had first popped into my head after I hung up with Moran.

The murder of a senator's nineteen-year-old daughter?

Not to mention the likelihood of this being a serial killer.

Oh, yeah. I was definitely putting Bobby on the case.

And with Logan still on light duty, and my other detectives all knee-deep in cases…and yeah, okay so maybe it would've been a little self-indulgent, but whatever.

But now Logan _wasn't_ on light duty.

Bobby stared at me for a moment before dropping his head to hide his grin, and then he looked back up at me, in a move similar to the one Logan had used on me earlier and said, "Are you sure you don't want to challenge the legitimacy of that marksmanship report? You know, maybe send him back to retest under another instructor?"

"While you and I are out catching the killer?"

"It's scary how easily you read my mind," he said on a chuckle.

Ah…so tempting.

Working side by side with Bobby again…I never get enough of it.

But I wasn't going to do it at Logan's expense. He'd obviously worked hard to rehab his hand in order to be able to fire accurately again so quickly.

And of course, Bobby was only teasing, too.

This was us now.

This was how it worked, and we were both happy with the status quo.

"You'd better go catch up to him," I said with a nod towards the window. "He just stole the keys from your desk."

Bobby looked back and saw Logan heading for the elevator with the pilfered keys in his hand.

"Keep me up to speed!" I called out after him as he hustled across the squad room.

He gave me a wave over his head and then hopped onto the waiting elevator.

With those two back in the game, I shifted my focus onto the next priority.

Wyatt and Yuille and the Judge Schuler case.

The addition of another body with similar forensic evidence had thrown them for a loop for short period of time but the last I heard, they were planning to pick up their prime suspect this morning.

Mrs. Schuler.

"Wyatt, Yuille!" I called out from the doorway. When they looked up, I gestured for them to come into my office, but then I saw Captain Maas get off the elevator and start heading in my direction, so I added, "Give me a few more minutes, Detectives. Have you already gotten the warrant?"

"It should be here any minute," Wyatt answered.

"Okay. Don't go anywhere until we talk, okay?" I instructed them as Maas approached.

"If you're in the middle of something, I can wait," he offered.

"No, it's fine. Come on in."

We went into my office and I closed the door behind us. Despite us both being captains, he was still my superior officer, but as was typical of him, behind closed doors the hierarchy was ignored.

He didn't act like he owned my office.

In fact, he didn't even sit down until I suggested it, but after I waved him into a chair, he sat down heavily.

"Tell me about this O'Hara business. Did you put Goren on it?"

"Of course. The chief said he wanted the best," I replied.

"Yeah, but he's flying solo. I'm not sure if that's…"

"He's not," I interrupted. "Logan's back."

"Already?" he asked in surprise. "He's been released to full duty?"

I nodded and picked up the marksmanship report and handed it to Maas.

"He brought this in right after I got the call from Moran about the case," I told him. "And the stitches are out, he's off the pain meds…he's officially good to go."

"So Goren _and_ Logan are on it," he said with a small smile.

"Yes, sir."

"Don't _sir_ me in here, Alex," he said. "I just came down to make sure you had it covered. I thought maybe you might try to slip back into the field on this one."

"It crossed my mind," I admitted.

"Well, make sure you stay on top of it," he stated firmly. I was surprised by his directive, and felt slightly offended that he considered I might do otherwise, but then he added, "Don't take that wrong. I'm just saying that the press is going to eat this up. And guess who the commissioner's decided will be the face of the investigation?"

I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair.

"Uh huh," he continued. "His newest, most TV-friendly captain of Major Case. He's going to issue a press release in another hour or so, and he's directing all media to contact you for interviews and updates, so that's why it's important for you to know every detail. That way you can decide what gets said and what gets held back."

"Isn't that why we have a media department?" I asked in annoyance. "Come on, Captain. I've got a department to run. I don't have time for…"

"He wants you to _make_ time. And I'm supposed to pick up any slack that results from your on-camera duties. This is going to be national news, Alex. And you're going to be the face of the NYPD."

I stared at him incredulously as I absorbed this latest development.

I couldn't think of much that I'd want to do _less_ than give even _one_ interview, let alone the kind of daily Q&A that a case like this would demand.

"Captain," I said, shaking my head. At his raised eyebrow, I corrected myself and said, "_Stanley_. I can't stress enough how much I don't want to do this. Isn't there anyone else…I mean, you can do it, can't you?"

He barked out a laugh and leaned back comfortably in his chair.

"Did you hear me say the commissioner wants a TV-friendly face? Sorry, Alex. This one's on you. But you'll be great."

"I'm not so sure," I mumbled. I pulled open my desk drawer and eyed the jumbo-sized bottle of Excedrin that Bobby had bought for me, supposedly as a joke. I pulled it out and popped the top on it, and then shook out two pills into my hand and said, "I can feel the headache coming on already."

"You can probably get away with not doing one today, since the commissioner will be handling it," he said, still looking amused. "But tomorrow, they're going to hit you up, so I hope your detectives find something for you to talk about."

"You mean after they visit all three precincts for the case files? It'll take them half the day just to drive out to Queens and back," I grumbled, and then I decided that I needed to suck it up and quit complaining. "Okay, you know what? It's fine. I'll handle it. So how are things with you?"

"You mean have I crawled inside of a bottle since my wife threw me out and changed the locks, and then started up a smear campaign with the kids?"

"She's trying to turn them against you?"

"Apparently I wasn't distraught enough about losing her, so she wants to make sure I'm properly upset," he said with heavy sarcasm. "But it doesn't matter. They're adults. They know the deal. And I've been thinking about your offer."

At Logan's suggestion, I'd offered to sublet my apartment to him. He needed a place to live, and I needed to keep my address. No one would think twice about Maas using a PO Box, especially after the rumor mill picked up the fact that his wife was divorcing him, but me…if _I _tried to get a post office box, the gossip would start flying about why I didn't have a useable physical address.

"And?" I asked him.

"I think it sounds like the perfect solution for both of us."

We chatted for a few more minutes and then he left, making me promise to call him if I found myself getting snowed under.

After he left, I started to call out to Wyatt and Yuille again, but my cell phone rang.

It was Liz.

"What's up?" I answered.

"I just wanted to let you know that I've ordered the transfer of both of last week's victims related to the O'Hara murder," she said. "One of them was slated for Potter's Field today, and I didn't want to run the risk of losing track of either of them."

"Potter's Field? They've given up on her already?"

"That's what it looks like, so it's a good thing Major Case picked it up."

"You're not kidding," I agreed. "Okay, so, you're going to take another look at them, right?"

"Yes. O'Hara, too. I'll send for her as soon as the ME finishes up, which should be any time now. Although you know, the ME working on her is top-notch, so I'm not sure if I'll be able to get anything more."

"Well, there's top-notch, and then there's Dr. Rodgers," I replied.

"Thank you, Captain," she said, and I could hear her smile.

"So...do I want to know how you helped Logan rehab that hand? Because I've never seen anyone get over a gunshot wound so quickly."

"Don't let him fool you. He's still in some pain. He's just working around it."

"I figured. But as long as he can still shoot, I'm not going to knock it. His timing couldn't be better."

"So he and Bobby got this case?"

"Yeah. I'm sure they'll be paying you a visit soon enough. When do you expect to have them all in your morgue?"

"Early afternoon at the latest, although I'll still need time to examine them."

"I know. It's just…this one's going to be…"

"A media circus, complete with glory-seeking, ass-kissing brass who want to use three dead girls as a stepping stone to fame and fortune?" she posed.

"Yeah," I said, chuckling uneasily. "Except guess who's the ass-kissing brass assigned to media duty."

"I can't imagine who Moran would…wait. You?"

"Ladies and gentlemen, step right up. It's gonna be a hell of a show."

**TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Everything okay?"<p>

"Yeah, why?"

"I mean with you and Liz."

"Yeah," Logan replied, looking at me questioningly. "It's great, actually. Why?"

"I was just wondering."

"Because…"

"Because this is the first day in nearly a month that you haven't come in smelling like smoke."

Logan started laughing as he maneuvered the car through Monday morning traffic.

He drove using only his left hand, while his right rested casually in his lap. I couldn't help but admire his determination to get back to full duty, but I was also a little concerned about his pain level.

"Chocolate," he stated after another minute.

"What?"

"Liz said we were smoking too much, so we switched to chocolate."

"Seriously?"

He cast me a sideways glance and flashed me a grin.

"Hey, it's cheaper and healthier and sometimes it gets us going again, because you know…"

"I think I'm going to have to stop you there," I interrupted.

"What?"

"I don't want to know what the two of you do with chocolate. But good. She's right about the smoking. Although you might have to start working out more."

He laughed again and said, "What do you think we're doing to earn the chocolate?"

"So how's the hand…really?" I asked after another minute.

"Sore as a son of a bitch, but I'm working it out."

I nodded thoughtfully as I opened up the scant file on our new case.

"Goren, I've got your back," he said seriously. "I wouldn't come back if I wasn't ready. I wouldn't put you at risk just to get my own rocks off, okay? If my reaction time was taking a hit, I'd still be scouring LUDs."

"I know," I agreed.

"Okay, so…what are you thinking about this case? Is it coincidence that one victim is the daughter of a public figure?"

"Or was she the prime target and the other two are cover-ups?" I posed.

"At this point, it's anybody's guess."

He was definitely right about that. We had a lot of fact-gathering to do before we could make any kind of intelligent supposition.

We started off by going to the 9th precinct to gather the file.

The homicide detective assigned to the case was only too happy to hand it off to us, since he'd had it for five days and still didn't have an ID.

"You canvassed the area where she was found?" I asked as I flipped through the surprisingly small file.

"Of course."

"And…nothing?" Logan asked. "You showed her picture around?"

"Yeah, I flashed the morgue shot. What am I…new?"

"No, it's just…no," I said as I chucked Logan in the side with my elbow.

It was time for us to go.

"Good luck," the detective said cynically as we left the squad room.

"You know what?" Logan muttered to me as we went back to the car. "The day I stop caring about the victims is the day I quit for good. Why do guys like him even stick around?"

"The paycheck, I guess."

"Yeah, well do me a favor and just shoot me if I ever turn into that guy."

"Sure," I agreed with a grin.

"How'd I know you'd like the sound of that?" he asked, his mood lightening with my attempt at humor.

"Let's go see what the 114th's file looks like. Or should we check out the scene while we're in the area?"

In the end, that's what we decided to do.

Jane Doe #1 had been found in the outside stairwell of a basement apartment. The tenants were out of state, and had been for more than two weeks, so they weren't on the suspect list, although we would still need to talk to them at some point.

Based on the blood stains still visible on the sidewalk, the victim had likely been pulled from a parked car and then tossed down the stairs.

According to the ME's report, cause of death was exsanguination, brought about by a gunshot to the abdomen.

"It doesn't say how long it took her to bleed out," I stated as I read over the report while we stood on the sidewalk.

"What about pre-mortem bruising?"

"Wrists and upper arms," I said.

"So he grabbed her, and maybe used something around her wrists to restrain her?"

"Maybe. Are we saying _he_ for a reason?"

"No," he admitted. "No, I'd say we can't rule anyone out just yet."

"No sexual assault. The victim was fully dressed."

"In what?"

"Good…question," I replied as I scanned through the investigating officer's notes. There wasn't any mention of what she'd been wearing. "It doesn't say, and there's no photo."

"That's because he's a half-ass disgrace to the badge."

I couldn't argue with him on that one.

The crime scene didn't shed much light on things for us, so we got back in the car and headed for the 114th.

"She's a hooker," the detective said firmly as she searched through the stack of files on her desk in search of our Jane Doe #2.

"How do you know that?"

"I'll show you," she said, finally putting her hands on the right file and flipping it open on her desk. She rummaged through it until she got to the crime scene photos.

Logan caught my eye and I knew what he was thinking.

At least this one _had_ crime scene photos.

"There you go," she said at last, slapping down one of the pictures. "Isn't it obvious?"

Our victim was lying on the ground amidst dumpster overflow in a darkened alley. She was wearing a short skirt, high heeled shoes, and some sort of sparkly sleeveless shirt. She appeared to have once been very pretty.

"So…what, she's a hooker because of the way she's dressed? She looks about eighteen. Have you seen the way eighteen year old girls dress these days?" Logan asked her skeptically.

"Seen it? I used to be one," she retorted dismissively. "And I'm telling you, this ain't a normal teenager. She was a pro."

"Okay, well, if you don't mind, we'll just take this off your hands," I said diplomatically, thinking about how proud Alex would be of me for not saying what I really thought about the detective's presumptuousness and ineptness.

Not to mention the fact that I'd spoken up quickly in an effort to keep Logan from commenting on exactly how long it'd been since the detective was eighteen.

"Mind? Please. I tried to hand it off to the 9th when the ME matched up the post-mortem mutilation, but Decker over there wouldn't have any part of it."

"Wait, so the haggling over the file was about _not_ wanting the case?" Logan questioned.

"Yeah," she shrugged and then gestured toward the stack of files. "You see my caseload. What's one less dead hooker to worry about?"

This time, I had to give Logan a shove in order to get him out of the squad room without causing a scene, and herding him worked as a nice distraction for me so that_ I_ didn't cause a scene.

"What happened to the department?" he asked. "It used to be filled with good cops like Phil and Lennie and Jimmy Deakins…now we've got Dumb and Dumber carrying shields."

"There are still a few good ones out in the field."

"Yeah? Like who?"

"Me and you," I said firmly. "Now forget about them and let's see what we can find out about these girls. We really need to identify them if we want to piece together what happened to them and how they relate to each other and to Sally."

Alex called as we were driving to the crime scene.

"How's it coming?" she asked when I answered.

"Slowly. We picked up the file from the 9th and checked out the scene, but we don't know anything more than we did before we got there. The file from the 114th is a little bigger, but not much. We're heading to that scene now."

"I don't want you to feel rushed or anything, but…"

"What's going on?"

"Zaring's got me on media duty," she said, and the statement was made with such disgust that I almost laughed.

"That's because you're smarter than anyone in the department and you're so beautiful that the camera will love you."

I ignored Logan's good-natured eye-rolling, choosing instead to listen to Alex as she sighed into the phone.

"Yeah, but you're biased," she replied. "And I _hate_ the press. And it's not like I'm not busy enough, especially after all that time we spent working the Hassan case."

"You'll be great. So I guess you're hoping we'll find something for you to talk about, huh? When's your first press conference?"

"The commissioner's going on in a few minutes to announce me as the point of contact. Maas thinks I can get away with waiting until tomorrow, but I guess I'll have to see how many calls come in. And how many leads you two find."

"No pressure or anything," I teased.

"Of course not."

"You know the 9th and the 114th weren't haggling to get the case. They were haggling to dump it."

"Really? That's not how it was presented to me by their captains. Interesting."

"Just thought you should know. And Decker from the 9th didn't even have crime scene photos in the file. He didn't make note of how the victim was dressed."

"The ME's notes should have that."

"Yeah, but…"

"I know. It doesn't excuse him from being incompetent. I'll place a call to his captain. Oh, and Liz called and said she's requested the bodies. She'll be doing a second pass on all of them, and she said you should check with her in a few hours if you want her preliminary findings."

"Preliminary from her is better than comprehensive from just about anyone else."

"That's pretty much what I said," she agreed on a chuckle. "Okay, so you're in Queens, and you still have to go down to the 7th, right?"

"Yeah, that's next, after this scene. It won't take us long here, but hopefully the one in the lower East side is still roped off."

"It is. I made sure they kept it secure for you."

"Thanks. I'll owe you."

"I'm counting on it."

An hour later, we were at the7th precinct. The crime scene in Queens wasn't any more helpful than the one SoHo, and so now we were hoping like hell that we'd get something good from the detectives assigned to the Sally O'Hara case.

"Detective Mike Logan," said one detective enthusiastically as she got up from her desk. She offered her hand and acted as though Logan should know her, and then she confirmed my suspicion by adding, "I was wondering when our paths might cross again."

"Detective Coleman," she stated encouragingly when Logan didn't respond. "Michelle?"

"Oh, um…Michelle," Logan said with a nod as he held up his hand to show her the bandage as an excuse for begging off the hand-shaking.

He cast me a nervous sideways glance as he continued to look clueless, and I could tell he was sweating it out.

Was this a previous conquest?

Admittedly, she was extremely attractive. Not my type, but I could see why she might be his.

Or might have _been_ his in the past anyway.

Now his type was just Liz.

Period.

But if she was a former lover, he'd obviously left on good terms, because she seemed happy to see him.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?" she asked with a broad smile.

"Um…I'm sorry," he admitted.

"We met last year. I was interviewing for that Nassau County job, too."

"Oh. Okay, yeah. Michelle. How've you been?"

"Good. Although I didn't get the job, obviously. You either."

"No, I'm with Major Case. Oh, um…my partner, Bobby Goren."

I shook her hand, but completely felt like a third wheel as Coleman blatantly looked Logan up and down. He just stood there, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and he seemed to be wilting under her gaze.

"The infamous Detective Goren," she said, finally tearing her eyes away from Logan to look at me. "I've heard about you."

"Only good stuff, I hope."

"What else would it be?" she replied ambiguously before moving her focus back to Logan. "So you two are here to take Sally O'Hara off my hands, huh? The vic turns out to be someone related to someone famous and in swoops Major Case."

"It's not our call," Logan told her.

"I know," she said with a wave of her hand. "Ignore my bitterness. I actually applied to get into Major Case, too, but I'm still stuck down here in the 7th. Although I'm hoping it won't be too much longer before I get the nod. If you don't mind me asking, what do you think of the new captain up there?"

"They don't come any better than Captain Eames," Logan answered.

"What he said," I added. "So, I know you've only had this case for about eight hours, but what've you got?"

Coleman picked up the file and was suddenly all business.

"Initially a Jane Doe. The body was found around two o'clock this morning under a bench in Corlears."

"Our boss said the scene's still secure?"

"That's right. Although I've got pictures from every angle and CSU was out there for three hours combing the park. I don't know what you think you'll find that we missed."

"It's nothing personal. We just have to get up to speed. So before you got the pop on the ID, did you pull missing persons reports for comparison?"

"Of course. SOP, right?"

Exactly.

Except that Decker didn't do it, and neither did Vinley from the 114th.

"Right," Logan answered, catching my eye and obviously thinking the same thing. "Since you've already got them, we'd like to take those, too. We've still got two more girls to ID."

"Sure," she agreed.

She turned around and bent over her desk, reaching for the stack of printouts on missing girls in the range of sixteen to twenty-one. I glanced at Logan and caught him looking at her backside, so I cleared my throat and he quickly brought his eyes to mine.

He gave me a questioning look and I furrowed my brow at him, and then he shrugged me off.

"Here you go," Coleman said as she turned around and held out the information. "I hope this helps. If you don't mind, keep me posted on how it goes, okay?"

A cop who felt invested in her case.

How refreshing.

"Sure," I agreed.

"Good, so…you'll call me, Mike?"

"Um, yeah…um…either Detective Goren or I will give you a call when something breaks."

She handed him a business card and flashed him a smile and then sat down at her desk as we turned to leave.

"You're a dead man," I muttered to him.

"What?"

"What? Really? Liz is a medical examiner. How hard do you think it'll be for her to hide your body?"

"I can't help it if I ran into someone I knew from before," he said, although I noticed that his face paled slightly. "You really think she'll be mad?"

"That you have her business card in your pocket? Or that you were checking out her ass?"

"I wasn't," he argued as he shoved the card into my hand. "I was…I was just trying to remember, and…I was looking down and then that's when she turned around, and…"

He trailed off and then looked at me with worry etched across his face.

"I was _not_ looking at her ass. And _you_ can call her if we get a lead, okay?"

"Sure. So you really don't remember her?"

"Yeah," he said on a sigh. "I do now. But I didn't at first. She looks different now. She changed her hair or something. But yeah, it finally hit me."

"And you…slept with her?"

He ran his right hand through his hair and then winced from the action.

"It was when she said…we met when we were both doing the Nassau County interview."

"That was the same day that Alex and I ran into you."

"Right. Only I didn't hook up with her then. I got called back for a second interview, and she was there. I guess we both made the short list. Anyway, after I finished, I came outside and she was waiting for me. It was after one of those weekends that you and Alex had one of your marathon sessions in my spare room, and I was…I don't know. Lonely, I guess. Shit, Goren, this isn't good, is it?"

"It'll be fine. You just need to tell Liz that you ran into her."

"I should've told Michelle that I'm in a relationship. I didn't say anything."

"We were there professionally," I reminded him. "It would've seemed weird."

"I don't care. It doesn't matter who thinks I'm weird as long as I don't come across as still being interested in anyone other than Liz, because I'm not. You _know_ I'm not."

"I know that."

We got into the car and he started it up, but then turned to look at me.

"What do you think she's going to say? I told you I'm not good at this relationship stuff. I _knew_ I was going to screw this up," he said, now completely frustrated with himself.

Then to my surprise, he slammed his fist down on the console, and then cursed a blue streak as the pain shot through his hand.

"Logan, what the hell are you doing?"

"I just…God _damn_ that hurt," he ground out.

"When we get to the morgue, you need to let Liz check that out."

"The stitches are out."

"Doesn't mean you didn't mess something up."

"Yeah, well that sounds about right, doesn't it? Mike Logan messes something up."

"Logan…"

"No, it's fine. The story of my life."

He fell quiet and I left him to his own thoughts while he drove us to Corlears Hook Park.

"Take a minute and give her a quick call," I suggested when we arrived at the scene, hoping that clearing the air with Liz might help him get his head back in the game.

And really, I felt a little bad, too, because I was mostly only teasing him about Liz getting upset. She's a smart woman, and she knows he has a past. She wasn't going to blame him for today.

And once he told me he hadn't been checking her out, well…I believed him. In fact, I'd been surprised to see that it _looked_ like he'd been staring at her, because as much as he likes to call himself a screw-up, he would never cheat on Liz. And I know that looking isn't cheating, but still...he was too invested in Liz to even do _that_.

"Sorry to unload on you," he said, taking a deep breath. "I'm just…she really threw me for a loop. I've never been in a situation like that before. I mean, obviously I've run into previous…_women_ before, but I've never been in a relationship when it happened. I didn't want to be rude to Michelle, but that doesn't mean I'm interested in her or anything. Man, do you think she thinks I'm interested?"

"Relax," I told him. "Call Liz, and when we need to deal with _Detective Coleman_, I'll handle it."

"Okay. But we're going to the morgue next. I'll just talk to her then."

So we got out and badged the officer on duty at the scene and then ducked under the tape.

My phone rang just as we approached the blood-stained grass where Sally O'Hara had been found.

"Goren," I answered without looking.

I crouched down and did a visual sweep of the area while Logan wandered around the vicinity, his eyes to the ground in search of…anything out of the ordinary.

"You know how I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…"

It was Alex.

"Yeah?"

"There's another one. The call just came in, so you guys'll get first crack at it."

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"How close are you to having a suspect?"<p>

"Was this a personal attack on Senator O'Hara?"

"There's a rumor going around that the victim was involved in drugs – can you confirm that she was, in fact, a heroin addict?"

I looked out over the array of still-camera flashes and news camera lights and boom microphones, and I nearly had a panic attack.

I fought it off by taking a deep breath and thinking of everything I was going to do to Commissioner Zaring as payback for this tortuous assignment.

Electric shock.

Water boarding.

Or maybe I'd make him just spend a day in my shoes.

"_She's in the wind, Cap."_

"_Are you kidding me?" _I'd asked earlier while I stared in disbelief at Wyatt and Yuille as they stood in my doorway with their heads hung low.

"_No, ma'am,"_ Wyatt said, scuffing at the floor with his shoes. "_The house was locked up tight, and the neighbors say they haven't seen anyone home since Sunday morning."_

"_Sixty-two year old widows _do not_ run,"_ I said forcefully as I got up from my desk and walked around to the front.

"_I guess they do when they're murderers,"_ Yuille replied, clearly as frustrated as me.

"_Do we have any idea where she went? Have you checked the usage on her passport? Airports? Train stations? Bus stations? Bicycle rental kiosks? Come on, Detectives. I really need you to find this woman."_

"_We just got back, ma'am. We're getting on it right now."_

"_Call the DA and get a search warrant for her house. Maybe she left something behind that'll give you a clue."_

"_Yes, ma'am,"_ they said in unison as they left my office.

And it's possible that I pushed them a little too hard.

Because I wasn't really mad at them.

I was just having a bitch of a day, and the last thing I needed was for the suspect - who it took us nearly two weeks to sniff out, and even then mostly at the direction of Bobby's intuition - to take off for destinations unknown right as we were getting ready to make the arrest.

Because earlier, I'd been called up to the commissioner's office, and he had informed me that not only would I need to be prepared for questions about the O'Hara case during the press events, but I also had to be on top of every other current case in my department because he'd offered carte blanche to the reporters in an effort _to uplift the NYPD's image in the eyes of the community_.

That's what he'd said.

"_So this case has turned into a PR project_?" I asked him.

"_We take it where we can get it, Captain. I didn't ask for some nut job to kill that girl, but the fact of the matter is that it happened, and if we can polish up our image while we're catching the killer, then let's do it."_

"_Those girls_," I corrected.

"_I'm sorry?"_

"_The killer murdered three girls, not just Sally O'Hara."_

"_Right. Of course. So…did you see my press conference?"_

"_Yes, sir."_

"_Did you take notes? Because that's how you handle those blood-thirsty predators."_

"_Well, for starters, it's probably not a good idea to refer to them as blood thirsty," _I retorted smartly. He glared at me for a moment, and so I added_, "Sir."_

"_And stick with civvies, okay, Eames? The dress blues are nice, but I want the atmosphere to project that we're professional, yet human…approachable and amenable…you know what I'm saying?"_

I knew exactly what he was saying.

He was trying to pimp me out.

"_Yes, sir," _I answered, deciding that it was better to go with the standard reply than what I really wanted to say.

Twenty minutes after returning from the commissioner's office, I'd gotten the news from Wyatt and Yuille that Mrs. Schuler had gone on the lamb.

Unbelievable.

And then I took a call from the captain at the 2-4.

"_Eames, my officers just responded to a 9-1-1 call that I think might interest you."_

"_I'm listening."_

"_Dead girl, upper teens to early twenties, found dead in a parked car on West 101__st__."_

"_And?"_

"_Acid-burned fingertips and her teeth look like they got knocked out with a hammer."_

I closed my eyes and blindly reached in my drawer for the bottle of Excedrin.

"_What's been done_?" I asked him.

"_Nothing. As soon as the officer saw the teeth and fingers, he called me. The scene is secure, but no one's touched anything."_

"_Okay, good. Thank you. I'll send my detectives up there right away."_

I hung up with him and swallowed my second dose of aspirin for the day.

_And at that point, it was barely noon._

Then I called Bobby to let him know about the latest victim, after which I called Liz.

"_I know you're swamped, but I'd love to have you on this, since you're looking the others over, too."_

"_Use me and abuse me, Captain,"_ she replied good-naturedly.

"_You sure?"_

"_Hey, if I don't do it now, you'll just ask me to do it again later, right?"_

"_But I'm asking in the nicest possible way."_

"_Yes, you are,"_ she said on a chuckle. "_And I'm going. I'll let you know what I find. Goren and Logan are headed that way, too?"_

"_I just called them. They're at another crime scene, but they'll get up there as soon as they can."_

After I hung up with Liz, my desk phone rang.

"_Captain Eames."_

"_This is Commissioner Zaring's office. He'd like a word with you_," the secretary stated.

Another word?

I hadn't even been back in my office for an hour yet.

"_Sure,_" I agreed, since I had no choice.

"_Eames,_" his voice boomed after a moment of listening to elevator music. I pulled the phone away from my ear, temporarily deafened by his exuberance.

"_Yes, sir."_

"_You know how I said the press conference could wait until tomorrow?"_

"_Um…yes_."

"_It can't. I got a call from the mayor and he wants you out in front of this thing. Four-thirty on the courthouse steps. They make a better backdrop, you know. You've got time to go home and change if you want."_

"_I have time_?" I repeated incredulously. "_You want me to go home and change clothes when my department is in the middle of three dozen active cases?"_

As I said the words, I saw that Wyatt and Jacobs and Meeks were all loitering outside of my office.

"_Don't you have detectives working on those cases_?" he asked.

"_Of course, but…"_

"_Then let them work. I need you on this, Eames. You're my go-to girl_, _right?_" he said, and then he added pointedly, "_Unless Moran was wrong about you_."

So that's how I found myself, dressed in my lone power suit, standing at the top of the courthouse steps with countless microphones in front of me.

"I'll answer your questions," I said firmly. "But you need to ask them one at a time."

And then I gestured at the Channel 7 reporter who up to this point had remained quiet, so I figured this was her reward.

"Thank you," she said. "We've just received word that two of your detectives took the wrong woman into custody today. Can you give us a statement about that, and can you tell us if this kind of error is commonplace with the NYPD?"

I held her gaze for a moment longer, silently sending daggers in her direction and then I grabbed onto the podium with both hands.

"The detectives had a valid arrest warrant, and went to the home of the suspect. Initially, it was determined that she was attempting to flee, so they then proceeded to obtain a search warrant. When they went back to the residence, it appeared as though the suspect had returned. It was unknown to them at that time that the suspect actually has an identical twin."

Because yes, that's what happened.

Wyatt and Yuille went back with the search warrant, and found Marion Black, whose appearance is identical to that of Martha Black Schuler. Not only that, but Marion didn't disclose her true identity until she was sitting in an interrogation room at 1PP.

That snafu had prompted aspirin dose number three, especially since once we were able to confirm Marion's claim, she promptly began talking lawsuit.

I should've known someone in the press would jump on that, considering the fact that Zaring hadn't put any limits on the session.

Murmurs flew around the crowd after my statement.

I kept my cool as I turned away from the Channel 7 wolverine doubling as a reporter, but she called out to me again.

"I'm sorry. Captain Eames, you didn't answer the second part of my question."

"Do we routinely make mistakes such as this? No, we do not. Next question."

"Who were the detectives involved in the mix-up?" someone called out.

"Major Case is filled with the best detectives in the department, and this type of thing is highly unusual. There's no way they could've predicted the outcome of the arrest, especially considering Ms. Black never once attested to the contrary until she was at the precinct."

And personally, I think she did it on purpose.

She was buying her sister time.

"So you're blaming the victim, Captain?"

"No, of course not. I'm saying it was an extremely rare occurrence. Next question."

"According to the DA's office, the arrest warrant was applied for by a Detective Nick Yuille," another reporter shouted out.

I closed my eyes briefly, annoyed with their thoroughness.

_Zaring must really hate me_, I thought.

"Is there a question in there somewhere?" I asked when nothing more was said.

"I was hoping for a confirmation or denial."

"If you've got a source at the DA's office, then I guess you've got what you need."

"No, what I want to know is how'd Detective Yuille get assigned to Major Case? The word on the street is that he was involved in an intimate relationship with his former captain. Aren't inter-departmental affairs a breach of regulations?"

"Yes, I believe they are. I'm not aware of any violation of such policy by Detective Yuille."

"So he _wasn't_ living with Captain Alonzo of the 6-8, his former precinct?"

I was dying a slow death.

I didn't want to talk about Yuille or inter-departmental affairs or mistakes my detectives had made.

"I can't answer that, but I can tell you that Captain Alonzo is no longer with the department."

"Because of Nick Yuille?"

"No," I said in frustration. "Now does anyone want to talk about the fact that four teenage girls have been found murdered over the course of the past week? Or should we spend our time talking about the personal relationships of the hard-working detectives who spend countless hours trying to get killers off the streets?"

I very nearly yelled that last part, and I realized that I was gripping onto the podium as if my life depended on it.

Well, this was one way to get out of media duty.

Tank it on the first day.

Way to go, Eames.

"Captain, has the fourth victim been identified?" a mousy-looking reporter on the second row asked me.

And he was suddenly my new favorite.

"At this time, no she hasn't, but as we speak, detectives are working together with the medical examiner in an effort to put a name with the face, and rest assured, they won't stop until all three unknown victims have been identified, and justice has been found for these senseless killings."

A little over an hour later, I slammed the door on my office.

I whipped off my blazer and threw it in the general direction of the coat rack and then I flopped into one of the visitors' chairs.

_Oh my God._

Things had gone much better once I was able to talk about the current case, because even though Bobby and Logan hadn't positively ID'd anyone yet, they were amassing evidence and they'd come a long way since this morning.

But what was all of that crap about Yuille?

I mean, I know they screwed up, but honestly, it could've happened to anyone. And like I said, I think the sister deliberately tried to mislead them, and if I could prove it, I'd have them arrest her for obstruction and aiding and abetting.

I looked up when I heard a light knock on my door.

It was Maas.

I waved him in and then put my head in my hand.

"So I'm off media duty now, right?"

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen the networks? The camera loves you, Alex, and the reporters love talking about you. Keep this up and you're going to take Moran's job away from him."

He sat down in the other chair and looked at me expectantly.

"But I blew my cool. They kept talking about Yuille, and…"

"You didn't blow anything. Getting mad and showing a backbone doesn't equate to screwing up. You kept on point, and you even though you were frustrated, you didn't say anything stupid or damaging. You did really good. I'm telling you – you could give Faith Yancy a run for her money."

I rolled my eyes at him, but he just grinned.

"Face it. You're full-blown brass now."

"Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery," I joked. My phone started buzzing, so I pulled it out and checked the message.

"Goren and Logan are done at the morgue for tonight, but still no ID," I told Maas after I read the text.

"Are they calling it quits for today?"

"Looks like it. Or at least until after dinner."

"How's it coming with the sneaky Mrs. Schuler?"

"Are you asking as my boss or as a friend?"

"Right now? As a friend."

"Then I'd really rather not talk about it," I admitted.

"You know what you need?" he asked as he got up from his chair.

"A week in Cabo?"

He laughed and shook his head, and said, "Probably. But how about dinner at Pete's with friends? Are you up for it?"

"I've still got a lot of work to do. Actually, that's where …_others_ are heading," I said, being non-specific just because we were still in the office. "But I'm not sure if I can get away just yet."

"You can," he said firmly. "Come on. Send a text and let them know you're on the way."

When I hesitated a moment longer, he added, "Boss' orders."

"I'm pretty sure that's a misuse of power," I teased as I quickly typed out a message and then picked up my jacket from where it had fallen on the floor near the coat rack.

He flashed me a smile and opened the door, gesturing for me to walk out ahead of him.

"Sue me."

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>As Bobby and I approached the crime scene of our fourth victim, I could hear Liz talking with one of her assistants.<p>

"Can you believe he did that to me?" the young assistant was saying.

"How long have you two been together?"

"Two months. He said he wanted to be exclusive, but I went home at lunch one day last week and I found him in bed with his ex."

"Ouch. I'm sorry to hear that. What'd he have to say for himself?"

"That he didn't mean to," the girl said dramatically as she stood up and changed positions, moving up to the front seat so that she could take a photo from another angle. "I mean, come on. What do you think happened? They both just happened to be naked and he slipped and…"

I heard Liz laugh, but I stopped in my tracks as the assistant continued.

"But seriously, he just ran into her one day and he said she came on to him and he couldn't help himself. What do you think, Doc? He seems really sorry about it, but I just don't know."

"If I were you, Sarah, I'd change the locks and never look back."

Bobby glanced over his shoulder at me and then moved over to where Liz was leaning through the open back door of a Volvo station wagon.

"What've we got, Doc?" he asked her as he stuck his head down next to hers.

I was temporarily rooted to the spot as my mind filled in the missing pieces of my forgettable night with Detective Michelle Coleman.

"_How'd your interview go?_" she'd asked me.

"_Great. Sorry, but I'm sure they'll pick me_," I'd replied flirtatiously, because hey, she was cute, and she'd waited for me, and like I mentioned to Bobby, I was freaking lonely. He and Alex had been going at it like rabbits for forty-eight hours straight while I sat around playing solitaire.

"_Well then, it sounds like we need to go get a drink and celebrate your new job_," she'd said.

So we'd gone out to a bar.

And we'd had more than just the aforementioned drink.

And I'd awakened the next morning, naked in a strange bed.

Michelle had already left her apartment that morning, so I never saw her again. She'd left a note, including her number so that I could call her, but I didn't, and I'm pretty sure I never intimated that I would.

It wasn't the first time something like that happened with me, but it was the last.

After that, I got caught up helping Bobby and Alex with their investigation, and I was afraid they might need me at a moment's notice, so I couldn't risk going out and getting drunk because if something happened while I was incapacitated, I would've never forgiven myself.

"Logan?"

I looked up and found all three of them staring at me: Liz, Bobby, and the assistant whose boyfriend had cheated.

"Yeah, sorry. Um…so what've we got?"

"As I was telling your partner," Liz began in a tone that clearly said she'd already been down this path. "It looks like the COD is strangulation. No sign of sexual assault, no defensive wounds…"

"On a strangulation? You need to do a…"

"Tox report. Yeah, we covered that."

She looked at me questioningly, her gaze softening after a moment.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Let's finish running it."

"Okay," she said, back in business mode. "TOD is roughly two hours ago, which is about thirty minutes prior to the 9-1-1 call."

"So the dump was made in broad daylight. Even with the victim in a car, it's still gutsy," Bobby remarked.

"And new," I added. "The others were all tossed overnight."

"Uh huh. And this is new, too," Liz said as she raised the girl's shirt just enough to show a bellybutton ring. "Literally. I'd guess that it was done maybe within the past twenty-four hours."

"So…body piercing on a Sunday," Bobby said thoughtfully.

"Or early this morning," I posed.

It was less likely, but still possible. It was early afternoon, and if Liz's guess was right, she probably died around eleven or twelve. I don't know how many girls woke up on Monday morning with a sudden, urgent need to pierce something, but it was possible.

"Could be," he agreed as he extracted himself from the back seat.

We both spent another moment looking at the girl's face. Like the others, she was pretty. And now that we had four, it was safe to say that _pretty_ was one of our killer's prerequisites.

This latest victim was dressed fairly conservatively in jeans and a sleeveless top. Although, the victim that Vinley had so callously labeled a pro was killed on a Friday night. She was probably just dressed for a night out on the town, as opposed to this girl who was heading…where?

My cell phone rang and interrupted my train of thought. I glanced at the display but didn't recognize the number, so I took a step away and answered the call.

"Logan," I answered gruffly, my thoughts still on our victim.

"You know, I don't remember you sounding so serious. Maybe Major Case isn't the best place for you. I'd hate for it to take away your sense of humor."

At the sound of the flirtatious voice on the other end of the line, I instinctively turned to get a visual on Liz. She'd gotten out of the car, too, and she and Bobby were engrossed in conversation while the assistant was putting away her equipment.

"Mich…um…Detective Coleman," I managed to say. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, now there's a loaded question," she said on a laugh.

When I didn't respond, she continued, "Look, I know you're busy. And this isn't just a personal call. I mean, it is, but it isn't. I wanted to tell you how nice it was to see you today. I've been thinking about you lately, and I kind of feel like it's fate that we ran into each other again."

"Logan!" Bobby called out to me as he waved me over. I held up one finger to let him know to give me a minute.

"I'm at a crime scene here, Coleman," I said firmly.

"Right. Um…yeah, that's inappropriate of me, isn't it? I'm sorry. I can just call you another time about that."

"It's...you…" I began, but she interrupted me before I could figure out a polite way to tell her not to bother.

"I got the ballistics report back on Sally O'Hara. I faxed it over to Major Case, but I thought you might want to hear about it, since I knew you were out of the office."

"Why, what's it say?"

"The slugs in Sally don't match up to the one in the first Jane Doe."

"Two different guns?" I asked rhetorically.

"It's unusual for a killer to switch weapons, right?"

"Um…yeah. Okay, thanks. I need to go."

"I can call you later?"

I can't explain why I said what I said next.

"Yeah, sure."

And okay, maybe I can explain it.

I wasn't currently in a position to nicely explain that I was no longer on the market.

And I _wanted_ to be nice because she was a colleague, and a sweet girl, and I didn't blame her for her actions. If it hadn't been for Liz coming into my life, the fact that Michelle wanted to see me again after our eight-months-in-the-past one-night stand would've been a nice ego-boost.

So I said she could call me just because I wanted to clarify my situation for her, not because I wanted to perpetuate the interest.

I hung up with her and then walked back over to Bobby and Liz.

"What's up?" he asked me, nodding towards the phone still in my hand.

Why in the world do I feel so _guilty_?

For some reason, I couldn't even look Liz in the eye, so I focused on Bobby.

"Oh, um…that was um…Detective Coleman," I said. He raised his eyebrow and I quickly added, "She got the ballistics report. Our killer's using two different guns."

"Great," he said smartly. "Because we need something else in this case not to make sense."

He turned to Liz and asked her how long before she'd be able to do the exam.

"It depends on where you want me to start," she answered. "I've got the other three back at the morgue."

"Work backwards," I said. "Our best chance is to jump on the most recent murder."

She nodded and then started to turn around, but as her gaze dropped, she caught sight of my hand, which I was holding protectively against my body.

I hadn't even realized I was doing it.

"What'd you do?" she asked me sharply, and then instead of waiting for my response, she looked at Bobby. "What did he do?"

"Nothing," I answered as I moved my hand away and shook it out, as though it didn't hurt like hell.

Because if I told her that I hit the console, then I'd have to tell her why I was mad, which means I'd have to tell her about Michelle, and I wasn't going to do that standing at a crime scene.

"Habit," I added when she looked at me disbelievingly.

"So it's okay?" she questioned, her gaze bouncing back and forth between me and Bobby.

"It's fine."

She finally nodded and then headed towards the van where her assistants were loading up our latest victim.

"We'll come by the morgue in a little bit," I called out to her. She glanced back and held my gaze for a moment and then got in the vehicle.

"Got a shovel?" I muttered to Bobby as we went to the front seat of the Volvo so that we could start poking around.

"For what?"

"Because I'm digging myself a hell of a deep hole, and I figured you might want to help me."

"She didn't just call about the ballistics report, huh?'

"No. She wants to see me again."

"And you told her no."

"No. I told her I was busy and couldn't talk about it."

"So you acted like it's a possibility?" he asked me incredulously.

"I didn't mean it like that," I replied defensively as I whipped open the glove box.

A piece of white nylon rope fell out of the box and onto the floorboard of the car.

I picked it up with my gloved left hand and showed it to Bobby.

"Three-eighths inch rigging rope," I mumbled. "I think we just found our murder weapon."

"I wonder if it'll match up to the marks on Jane Doe #1's wrists," he mused, and then he called out to a CSU tech who came over to bag the rope.

I emptied the rest of the glove box while he searched under the seat and in the console.

"So how'd you mean it?" he asked me after we worked in silence for a minute.

"I just want the chance to tell her nicely that I'm in a relationship and that while I appreciate the interest, it's not going to happen. Don't you think that's the mature thing to do, instead of just shooting her down?"

"I think…that I'm really glad I'm not in your shoes."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically.

"But," he added. "I've got your back. I know you didn't do anything wrong. Or at least, you haven't yet."

"And I'm not going to," I said firmly. "I just need to talk to Liz alone and tell her what's going on, and then call Michelle and explain things to her."

After we finished with the car and arranged to have it towed to impound, Bobby and I headed for the morgue.

He made a call while I drove.

"Madeline Reese reported that car stolen yesterday morning," Bobby said after he hung up his phone.

The registration in the glove box had shown that the car belonged to a woman in Brighton Beach.

"She actually filed a report?"

"Uh huh. Says she woke up Sunday morning, and her car was gone. Jacobs is going to run down her history for us and see if there are any flags, but I'd bet it's the truth. No killer would be dumb enough to leave that kind of evidence behind."

I nodded thoughtfully, struggling to keep my mind on the case rather than on Liz, but failing miserably.

Was she going to be upset with me?

Or would she understand what was going on?

How would I feel if someone from _her_ past suddenly showed up?

That last thought made me feel slightly nauseous about the way I'd been handling this situation, because if someone from _her_ past showed up, I'd want to know about it immediately, and I'd want her wearing a neon flashing sign that stated _Property of Mike Logan_.

"You're going to let Liz look at your hand, right?" Bobby asked me as I parked near the morgue.

"Yeah."

"Good. Okay, let's see if we can get the lab to doctor up the morgue photos so that we'll have something we can release to the public. Somebody knows these girls."

So, on our way to the autopsy suite, we stopped by the lab and got Sarah working on the pictures.

We didn't want to release photos that looked overly morbid, but with the three unknowns, it was all we had, so she could alter the coloring a little and cover up the damage to the mouths and we might be able to release a likeness.

"Sarah's getting us some pictures," Bobby told Liz as we entered her domain.

She was bent over one of the victims, looking at something with a magnifying glass.

All four girls were on tables, causing the room to be a little more crowded than normal.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I don't have anything else for you to go on," she said as she stood up straight. "Your killer did a great job on the finger prints."

"We found rope in the Volvo," Bobby told her. "I don't suppose you found evidence of rope on the first victim, did you? We know she had binding marks on her wrists, but the original report doesn't mention the source of the marks."

"I'll look for it, but to be perfectly honest, I'm really just getting started here. It's going to take me a couple of days to give them all the attention they need."

She resumed her position over the body

"Of course," Bobby said with a wave. "I'm not trying to rush you."

Then he glanced over at me, and said meaningfully, "I'm going to run down to the vending machine and get a soda. You want something?"

He was giving me my alone time with Liz.

"Are you buying, Detective?" Liz asked without looking up at him.

"I'll buy the sodas now if you buy the scotch later."

"That doesn't sound quite fair," she replied, smiling as she continued to work.

I just stared at her and wondered if she'd keep smiling even after I came clean with her.

"Sure it is," he called out as he headed for the door. "I'll check on Sarah's progress, too."

The door had barely closed when Liz stood up and set down her magnifying glass, pinning me with her gaze.

"Okay, what is it?"

"What's what?"

"Mike," she said on a sigh.

The sound was like a punch in the gut and it filled me with a sense of longing because it was the same sound she'd made this morning when I'd reached for her in the bed, stroking my hand over her hip and then pulling her towards me.

"_I love waking up to you_," she'd said as she turned in my arms and then brought her lips to mine. "_I love everything about you_."

I couldn't help but wonder if she'd still feel that way about me after I explained about my morning.

She stepped back from the table and pulled off her gloves and then crooked her finger at me, motioning for me to come closer.

I glanced around the room hesitantly and then crossed the five feet of space between us, stopping directly in front of her.

She held out her hand, palm up, and the command was as loud as if she'd shouted it.

So I placed my right hand in hers and she started taking off the bandage.

"So are you going to talk to me, or do I need to inject you with sodium pentathol?" she threatened.

I raised my eyes and found her staring at me, not my hand, and a small, nervous smile crept across her face.

_She's worried._

And I'm making it worse by not talking.

"Liz, it's nothing, really. It's…okay, the investigating detective at the 7th…she's…um…"

"An old girlfriend?" she guessed.

"A former one-night stand," I admitted.

She swallowed visibly and held my gaze, my hand forgotten for the moment.

"Okay," she said evenly.

"I didn't recognize her, but she remembered me."

"I'm sure she did. She's the one who called you about the ballistics report."

"I thought I was supposed to be the detective," I joked lamely.

"So did she really only want to talk bullets? Or did she have something else on her mind?"

"She said she wants to catch up with me."

"And you said…"

"Liz, I don't have any interest in her," I replied quickly.

"I'm asking what you said."

"I was at a crime scene. I couldn't exactly get into my relationship status."

"She didn't have any problem hitting on you while you were at a crime scene."

"No, I know," I said on a sigh.

"So how did you leave it?"

"She asked if she could call me. I said that she could, but I only said that so that I can tell her about you and that there's no possibility of anything between her and me."

She stared at me dubiously for a moment and then she went back to work on my hand.

"Liz…"

"It's fine. So how'd you hurt your hand again?"

"I punched the console in the SUV."

"You did what? Mike, are you crazy?"

"Absolutely," I said. I put my left hand under her chin, tipping her face up so that she was making eye contact again. "I'm crazy in love with you, and I'm sorry that I handled this so badly, but I honestly didn't know the best way to do it, and…I'm just really sorry."

After several agonizing seconds, she closed her eyes and said, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah. I trust you, Mike."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. So set the record straight with the slutty detective, and then let's forget all about her, okay?"

"Definitely. Although you know I may run across her from time to time, especially with this case…"

"I know. Just as long as she knows you're committed to a woman with a scalpel and an intimate knowledge of human anatomy, then it's all good."

I let out a relieved breath and flashed her a smile, and then took a swift glance around the room before giving her a kiss.

It was supposed to be a light, quick gesture, but she turned it into something a little more, and arousal zipped through me so fast it made my head spin.

But then she broke off the kiss and took a step back.

"No PDAs in my morgue, Detective," she said with a grin.

"Won't happen again," I promised insincerely. "Today, anyway."

"Uh huh. So, your hand looks okay, but it should probably be x-rayed again. That was really stupid, you know."

"I know. Let me give it a day or two and see if it gets better. If it doesn't, then we'll do the x-rays."

We heard a loud banging sound outside of the door and then Bobby came back in, carrying three cans of soda.

"What did you do, drop a can out there?"

"I just wanted to make sure that Liz had time to cover up her crime before I came back in."

"I decided not to kill him," she joked. "Yet."

"Good. Okay, so Sarah's almost done with the pictures, and she's doing a great job."

"So what do we want to do? Have Alex release it to the media tomorrow when she does her first press conference?"

"Actually, she's doing her first one today. I just got a text from her a few minutes ago. She had to run home to change because apparently the commissioner wanted her to look…different."

"That guy's a tool," I muttered, shaking my head. "Well, okay, so we'll release it at the second press conference."

"Uh huh," Bobby agreed. "We should make a list of bullet points as to what we know so far so that she'll have something to go by when she gets under the gun."

We used Liz's office and worked out a summary of the facts that we knew so far.

Four victims found between Wednesday and Monday.

All approximately the same age, all fairly attractive and in good physical shape.

Two were killed by gunshots, two by strangulation.

All victims were found in outdoor, relatively public locations.

A couple of aspects of the latest killing were slightly different.

She was found in a stolen car, and the murder and subsequent disposal occurred during the daylight hours.

"It's not a lot, but it's something," Bobby said as he sent the list to Alex's phone. "So everything okay with you and Liz?"

"Everything's great."

"You still need to call Coleman."

"I know."

"Do it now. Don't let it fester."

Bobby left me alone in Liz's office and went out to pester her as she continued to examine our victims. I saw him speak to her and then she made eye contact with me through her office window, but she just gave me a nod and a smile and then went back to work, so I pulled out my phone.

"Mike, I was hoping you'd call," she answered. Which means that she already had my number programmed into her phone because I didn't even have to tell her it was me.

Great.

"Yeah, um…about that. I may have given you the wrong impression earlier."

"How so?"

"I appreciate your help with the case, and I _really_ appreciate the fact that you don't hold it against me that I never called you last fall after…well, after. But I'm in a relationship right now."

"Right now?" she asked coyly, and I realized that maybe my wording wasn't all that great, but damn her for not just saying okay and being done with it.

"As opposed to last fall, is all I'm saying. I'm in a relationship."

"Why didn't you just say so to begin with?"

"We were working. It wasn't really the right time."

"Or maybe subconsciously you wanted to see if I'm still interested," she suggested. "But as I'm sure you remember, I'm not shy. I'm definitely interested."

"And I'm sorry, but I'm not."

"Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"Okay," she conceded at last. "If you change your mind…"

"I won't."

I hung up quickly and stared at the phone for a moment, and then jammed it in my pocket and joined the others.

"Done," I stated firmly.

Liz opened her mouth to ask me about it, but one of her assistants came into the room.

"Hey, Doc. Your friend's on the TV," he said as he went over to the little nineteen inch television that's mounted in the corner of the room.

He flipped it on and changed the channel, and suddenly there was Alex.

"…_**it was unknown to them at that time that the suspect actually has an identical twin," **_she was saying.

"Who's she talking about?" Bobby asked sharply.

"I don't know," I mumbled.

We listened for a few more minutes until the answer became clear.

"I can't believe it. Martha Schuler has a twin…and she's acting like a career criminal. How'd I miss that?" Bobby muttered to himself.

"She's handling those reporters great," Liz remarked about Alex. "And she looks incredible. She's a natural, isn't she?"

"She's spitting nails," Bobby commented. "Look at her face."

I looked, but I didn't see it. But Bobby knows her better than anyone, so I didn't doubt him.

And she had every right to be mad.

The reporters were all over the whole Yuille-Alonzo thing, and surely she was sweating bullets about her own personal indiscretion.

But Liz was right.

She handled it all with grace and professionalism and after a few more minutes, she had the topic back on track.

We listened for awhile, and then Sarah came in with our photos.

"I hope this'll work for you," she said as she handed them to Bobby.

"They look great. Thanks," he told her, then he turned to me and said, "We'll get these on the air first thing in the morning and maybe somebody will call. We'll have to set up a tip line."

"Goren, your theory about the rope is right," Liz said, breaking into our conversation.

She'd continued working while the press conference was on, and she was currently standing next to the first victim.

"I've got one nylon thread embedded in her wrist," she stated as she plucked out the evidence with a pair of tweezers. "I'll have the lab match it up to the rope you got from the Volvo."

"Okay, so we can try to track the origin of the rope. We can work the stolen vehicle angle. We can get the girls' faces out to the public," I ticked off.

"And we start tracing back through Sally's life and see how she spent her last twenty-four hours. Since we have her identity, we have to start with her."

"And you can check on body-piercing shops for the naval ring," Liz added. "I got a close-up snapshot of it. It's a little unusual."

Since we had a plan, and it was nearly six o'clock on a day when lunch was non-existent, we decided to take a break and go to Pete's.

Bobby texted Alex, and Liz made the arrangements for the bodies to be taken back to the cooler, and then we left the morgue.

"Alex is coming," Bobby said as we went outside.

"You sound surprised."

"I am, a little. She would've had a busy day even without the song and dance the commissioner made her do. I mean, I'm _glad_ she's coming. Otherwise I would've had to kidnap her from her office, so this just makes it easier."

Liz laughed and said, "Now there's something I'd like to see."

"Oh, it's not that hard," Bobby joked. "She's little. I just pick her up and throw her over my shoulder."

"Uh huh. And then she pulls her gun and shoots you in the ass," I added.

My hand was throbbing, so I pulled out the keys and tossed them to Bobby as we approached the car and then I walked around to the passenger side with Liz.

"So we're good?" I asked her quietly, trapping her against the door before she had a chance to open it.

"You tell me."

"I told her that I'm in a relationship."

"And she said…"

"She said something about calling her if I ever change my mind. But I assured her that's not going to happen. Unless you plan on dumping me. And even if you do, I'll be so heartbroken, I'll never look at another woman again."

She smiled at me and kissed me quickly and then said, "Okay then. We're good."

Her words were like music to my ears.

Because considering my past, this was probably one of the hardest obstacles we'd have to face.

And now that this first one was under my belt, I felt like we could handle anything that came our way.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>"You know, it's been four weeks."<p>

"I know."

"Four weeks," he repeated, as though he was amazed with the number.

Mike and I were alone at the table in Pete's. Bobby headed for the restroom as soon as we got here, and Alex hadn't arrived yet.

"Is that some kind of record?" I asked, and then I instantly regretted it.

"No," he said humorlessly.

"Mike, I'm…that was…"

"Forget it."

Why was I having so damn much trouble with this?

Earlier when Bobby came out of my office, leaving Mike in there alone, he simply said, "_He's making a call_."

"_That call?"_

"_Uh huh. You know, I hope you didn't bust his balls."_

"_Do I look like a ball-buster to you, Detective?"_ I fired back instinctively. I took a moment to breathe and then looked up at Bobby and found him watching me with concern.

I glanced over at Mike through my office window and forced myself to give him an encouraging smile and I then looked down at victim number four.

"_I'm sorry. No, I didn't, because he didn't do anything wrong_," I said quietly. "_Did he?"_

"_You're asking me?"_ he questioned, and then I instantly felt bad for doubting Mike.

And it's not even that I think he might've played up to that woman.

I know better than that.

It's that I couldn't stand the thought of him thinking about someone else in a sexual manner, even inadvertently.

I mean, he _slept_ with her.

He obviously found her attractive.

"_No, I'm not asking you_," I said at last.

"_Because you already know the answer_," he stated firmly.

"_Exactly."_

I kept my focus on my work and tried not to think about what this woman looked like, or what she was saying to him at this precise moment, or whether or not he was the least bit tempted by the offer I could only presume she might be making.

Because look at him.

I still found it a little hard to believe myself.

I mean, the fact that he loves _me_ when there were probably any number of women in this city who might be…I don't know.

More aesthetically pleasing.

And not quite so bitchy.

"_Two strangulations and two deaths by gunshots_," Bobby said, leaning over to get a closer look at what I was doing. "_What do you think about that?"_

"_I'd say you're the expert on those kinds of things."_

"_But?"_

"_But killers don't usually alternate. They might evolve, but rarely do they backtrack, so…with this latest one being another strangulation….it doesn't make a lot of sense to me."_

"_Yeah,"_ he said with a nod. "_That's where I am, too_."

But even as we talked about the killer, I couldn't get my mind off of that woman, and I'd just been getting ready to hit the lowest of lows and ask Bobby what she looked like when Mike came out of my office.

Although now, sitting in Pete's, I thought maybe I'd hit even lower.

One of Mike's worst fears is that I might judge him for his track record with women, and I'd just delivered a below-the-belt punch.

"I don't want to forget it," I pushed as I grabbed hold of his hand. "You didn't deserve that. I'm…"

"Pissed at me," he said sadly.

"No, I'm not. I promise. I've just got her in my head now."

"Well, get her out of your head, because she's not in mine," he insisted.

"Logan and the doc," Maas said, suddenly appearing at our table and pulling up a chair so that there'd be room for five. "That could be a TV show."

"Yeah, well not one as good as Captain Eames' debut today," I replied, since Alex had walked up behind the deputy chief.

"We're not talking about that," she said dismissively. "Where's Bobby?"

"Bar," Maas pointed out.

I turned to look and saw Bobby walking towards us, managing four drinks at once. He hesitated when he saw Maas and then he turned around and said something to the bartender.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were coming," he said distractedly when he got to the table. "Yours is on the way."

He put all of the drinks down and then sat next to Alex and proceeded to kiss her as though it had been weeks instead of probably only hours.

"No problem," Maas answered, smirking as he tried to look anywhere but at them.

"It's because she's a TV star now," Mike mock-whispered to Maas. "It makes her irresistible."

"She was already that," Bobby corrected as he finally sat back in his chair. He glanced at Maas and said, "Sorry, Stanley. It's been a long day."

"Well, since you called me by my name and we're all drinking, I guess we're off duty, so…you know…have at it."

"Or don't," Mike teased. "You know, some of us grown-ups show a little restraint when we're in public."

"You mean you?" Bobby said on a laugh. "I distinctly remember the very first time I walked into this place – I found the two of you…_having at it_."

For some reason, I felt my face flush at his mention of that night. Mike and Bobby continued to go back and forth, teasing each other, but I found myself thinking back on that night.

I'd been so nervous about what Bobby would think of me, since he'd learned that Mike and I were dating. And Mike had gone out of his way to help me feel relaxed and secure.

And of course, tonight Mike was being so sweet to remember that this sort of marked an anniversary for us and yet I'd lashed out at him.

_That's the way to keep your man, Liz, _I thought snidely_._

"If you two are done debating the merits of kissing in public, I'd like to go ahead and get the shop talk out of the way," Alex said as she picked up her drink.

She glanced at Mike and then Bobby and said, "You two never came back to 1PP today, so I've got a fax that came in for you from a Detective Coleman at the 7th."

Mike stiffened beside me and I felt the insecurity bubbling up inside of me, immediately followed by irritation with myself for feeling like that in the first place.

I mean, seriously…what was the big deal?

Is this how I'd act if Carolyn Barek came back to town?

Or if I happened to run into Dr. Olivet?

Maybe.

I don't know, but at least with them, I knew what I was up against.

In my mind, this Detective Coleman was getting exponentially more beautiful with each passing minute.

"Yeah, she called," Bobby told Alex. "Our two vics who were shot, were shot by different guns."

"Okay, well that's different," Alex commented. "This guy's all over the map, isn't he?"

I eased slightly closer to Mike in an effort to show him that we were _fine_ and then I spoke up.

"You know, maybe it's not just one guy. I mean, wouldn't that make sense? Two killers."

"Or maybe more," Mike added with a nod. "Maybe that's why each victim was treated differently."

"Except for the attempts to hide the ID. Maybe it's a gang," Bobby posed.

"Um…let's not say _that_ in tomorrow's press conference," Maas stated. "The last thing we need is for the citizens of this city to think we've got a serial-killing gang running rampant."

"I'm keeping two separate summaries," Alex told him with a smirk. "One for the public and one for eyes only. The gang theory will definitely be on the latter."

"Yeah, well…I know I'm the one who threw it out there, but…gangs tend to exhibit more violence," Bobby said thoughtfully.

"More violence than death?" I questioned.

"The crime scenes are too neat," Mike answered for Bobby. "Our killer is organized. Or kill_ers_. I agree with Liz. There's at least more than one."

"How does that change your course of action?" Maas asked them.

"It doesn't. We've got miles of legwork to do just to even start making sense of this," Bobby said. Then he turned to Alex and added, "Oh, and we've got pretty good photos for you to use tomorrow when you go back in front of the cameras."

She sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers.

"I don't even want to think about that," she said tiredly.

"That bad?" I asked sympathetically.

I didn't blame her for hating it.

I like being in my scrubs, down in the morgue.

Oh, and being naked in my bed with Mike.

That's how we'd started this day. He'd awakened me with the gentle stroking of his hand over my hip, and within minutes, I was overcome with need for him.

And he just has this way about him that always makes me feel so…_good_.

Special and loved.

And maybe I'm being so bitchy to him because I'm scared to death of losing him.

As Alex animatedly recounted her murderous thoughts while being interviewed, I let go of Mike's hand and instead settled it on his thigh.

He immediately put his arm around me and I leaned into him, relaxing against him and enjoying the feel of our closeness and of the laughter that rumbled through him as a result of Alex's tales.

"I mean, he didn't come right out and _say_ that I should put on a pair of fuck-me pumps, but I'm telling you…that was the implication," she was saying.

Bobby less-than-subtly leaned back from the table so that he could see what kind of shoes Alex was wearing, and then he looked at her and grinned broadly.

"Not a word, Goren," she said with a smile.

And he didn't say anything.

Or at least, not out loud.

But he did lean over and whisper something into her ear that had her raising her eyebrow at him challengingly and then she slowly and deliberately looked him over.

Those two are so funny to watch.

I noticed Maas watching them, too, and I suddenly felt bad for him, sitting here with two couples while the ink on his separation papers was still wet.

"Alex tells me you're going to move into her apartment," I said to him.

"That's the plan," he replied and then he glanced at Alex. "This weekend, right?"

"As long as I'm not in jail for killing a reporter, this weekend should be fine."

"How's that going?" Mike asked him. "Have you been talking with your wife?"

"No, but she's calling herself my ex already, so I'd say it's officially over. And I'm okay with it, really."

"How do…certain other people feel about that?" Bobby asked him.

We all knew about his on-going affair with Lisa Casteel, but we rarely spoke of it.

"Are you asking me if Lisa's going to leave Bill now that I'm back on the market?" he asked, and judging by his tone, I already knew the answer.

He seemed sad and somewhat resigned and his attempt to come across as indifferent didn't quite work.

Bobby shrugged and Alex said, "You can say it's none of our business, if you don't want to talk about it."

"There's not really much to talk about," he admitted. "She's been telling me for a decade that if I'd leave Clare then she'd leave Bill, but I never would because of the kids. And now that I have, well…I guess she's changed her mind. I mean, she _has_ been married to him for more than twenty years."

I didn't comment on the fact that her two-decade marriage hadn't stopped her from engaging in an equally long extra-marital affair.

Obviously, Stanley had done the same thing, although his wife had basically just used him and had never actually loved him, or shown him love, so I guess I felt like his straying was justifiable, if there is such a thing.

Either way, it wasn't my place to judge his choices.

"If you don't mind me asking, how'd that happen in the first place?" Mike asked. "You quit your job so that you two could stay together, so how'd she end up with Casteel?"

"Long story short, he went after her because he always felt the need to compete with me, about everything. And once I was out of the federal building, I guess it paved the way for him to make his move."

"And she fell for it?"

"She's…got her flaws," he said after a moment. "Bill's got family money, and she likes the finer things in life, so…"

"She went for the rich cop instead of the normal cop," Mike stated with a nod, and then he hugged me tighter against him and said, "Man, am I glad you don't think that way."

"Yeah, well, if I did, I'd still be married to the chief of EMS."

Maas nearly choked on his drink as he looked at me in surprise.

"Chuck's your ex?" he asked me. "How did I not know that?"

"I don't advertise it. And it was a long time ago. So you know him?"

"By reputation mostly. We've run into each other at functions from time to time. He's always got some young bimbo on his arm."

"Yeah, that's Chuck," I said with a nod. "Always trading up for the newest model."

I hadn't considered that maybe that was why this thing with Mike bothered me so much.

My ex-husband was a cheating dog who was in the habit of finding younger, more attractive bedmates.

And of course that's how it was with Danny Ross, too.

When he and I dated intermittently for that year, he was always searching for someone better, and when he found her, then that's when we'd be _off_ for a while.

Until she'd dump him and then he'd come back to me.

"Well, his loss is my gain," Mike commented.

"I think our waitress got lost," Bobby said, looking around at all of our empty glasses. "Mike, give me a hand at the bar."

Mike pressed a kiss against my cheek and then got up and walked to the bar with Bobby.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Alex looked at me and said, "Okay, what's going on?"

"With what?" I asked her innocently.

"Don't play dumb with me, Liz."

I glanced at Maas, and he said, "Oh, um…maybe they need my help."

"No," I said on a sigh. "It's not a secret. And it's nothing, really. This morning, Mike ran into a woman he used to…_know_. And for some reason, I'm having trouble dealing with it. It's not him. It's me."

"This morning…so someone on the job?" Alex asked.

Not much gets past her.

And since I was being honest, I may as well ask what I want to know.

"Um…really. I can…" Maas began as he started to get up.

"Sit," I said firmly to him, and then I looked at Alex and said, "Do you know Detective Coleman from the 7th?"

"She's the one who sent the fax," she stated. "But no, I've never met her personally."

"Well, that's her. She's apparently interested in picking up where they left off."

"I know her," Maas said.

And that's why I wanted him to stay because I was hoping maybe he did. He'd worked in several precincts over the years and considering his position, he was familiar with a large percentage of the detectives in the department.

Alex and I both looked at him and waited to hear what he had to say about her.

"Um…is this where I'm supposed to say something bad about her?" he asked hesitantly.

I rolled my eyes at him and shook my head.

"No, Stanley," I replied. "The truth comes first. We'll bash her later."

"Oh, okay then. She's um…very attractive. And smart. And she's a good detective. She was a top candidate for Major Case a few months ago. But then the timing of Goren's return filled that spot, and I stressed to Moran that Coleman wouldn't be a good fit for him as a partner and so we brought in Logan, and well…she got stuck in her position at the 7th."

"First off, thank you," Alex said pointedly to him. Then she looked at me and said, "But all of that aside, it really doesn't matter, does it? Mike's with you, and he's happy about that."

"I just wanted to know what I'm up against."

"Up against?" Maas asked, apparently having gotten over being the only man in the middle of a girl-chat. "You don't really think it's a competition, do you?"

"Rationally, no. But I've been burned so many times that the stove still feels hot, even when it's not turned on."

"Look at it this way," Maas said. "If he was going to cheat, would he have bothered to tell you about her? I mean, obviously he was honest about his past relationship with her, and the fact that she hit on him today, right?"

"He's got a point," Alex added. "You and I both know that Mike would never do that to you, but if you need the added reassurance, then ask yourself _that_. Why tell you at all if he had any inclination to pursue it?"

I nodded thoughtfully as Mike and Bobby came back from the bar with our next round of drinks.

I was completely annoyed with myself for my continued unease about the situation.

And it wasn't even a _situation_.

I'd turned it into one by being neurotic and it was time for that to stop.

So when Mike sat down, I put my hand back on his leg and as Bobby and Alex and Maas launched a continuation of their discussion about Stanley's love life, or lack thereof, I leaned over to whisper in Mike's ear.

"When you finish your drink, let's go home. I want to celebrate our anniversary."

He looked at me and flashed me a smile that sent a tingling feeling down to my toes.

And then he picked up his glass and tossed it back in one gulp before looking at me expectantly.

"Ready to go?"

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"I'm sorry about that twin mix-up."<p>

"You're sorry? How in the world is that your fault?"

"I never checked."

"Okay, let me get this straight," Alex said as she propped up her chin with her hands.

She was stretched out over top of me as we lay together on the couch, and until my comment, she'd had her cheek resting against my chest.

"You never thought to check whether or not the murdering wife of a dead judge has a twin sister who's been living out of state for the past forty years? I'm sorry, do we always check with the Office of Vital Statistics to find out if a suspect has siblings?"

"Are you mocking me?" I asked as a slow smile spread across my face.

"That's exactly what I'm doing," she replied. "And do I have to remind you that we might never have known that Martha Schuler was the killer, if not for you?"

"Oh, they'd have figured it out. Eventually, anyway. Once we got Misty Hahn talking, and I realized how clueless she was about that second victim, it wasn't that hard to see that she'd been set up."

"Not that hard for _you_ maybe."

"It wouldn't have been for you either. And Wyatt and Yuille are good detectives. They would've come to the same conclusion at some point."

"Yeah, well…still. Thanks for your help on that one. And maybe it's turned into a mess now, but I'd much rather know the identity of the killer and just need to catch her as opposed to having absolutely no idea."

I hummed my agreement as she eased her head back down to my chest, and then I ran my hand over her hair.

We'd arrived home from Pete's an hour or so ago.

"_Okay, everything off but the shoes_," I said to her as soon as I locked the door.

"_I can't believe you're going to fall into that stereotype_," she teased as she pulled off her jacket and set it on the table before slowly unbuttoning her blouse. "_I mean, how do you think these shoes got their nickname?"_

"_I know exactly how_," I replied, my eyes fully focused on her progress as her fingers moved from one button to the next. "_And it's for damn good reason_."

She'd kept the two sides of her blouse together while she was undoing the buttons, but as soon as she finished, she whipped it apart and then let it slide from her shoulders until it fell onto the floor at her feet.

"_That's what you…you had…"_ I began inarticulately as I saw what she was wearing underneath. "_You've had _that_ on all day_?"

She didn't answer at first and I had to force myself to tear my eyes away from the delectable sexiness of her lingerie so that I could look her in the eye.

She smiled at me…a slightly cocky, cat-who-ate-the-canary kind of smile…and I couldn't help myself.

I couldn't hold her gaze.

As much as I love staring into her beautiful eyes, I couldn't keep from returning my stare to the _rest_ of her.

While I watched, she reached for the clasp on her slacks.

"_So I guess this means you like it_," she said, and her voice only barely permeated my brain as I took in the sight of her…slipping out of the shoes just long enough to step out of the slacks, and then putting them back onto her feet so that at last she stood in front of me in those FMPs and that lacy concoction she'd been hiding under her power suit.

"_Oh, wait. I'm sorry. You said the shoes and nothing else, didn't you_?" she asked coyly as she reached for one of the straps.

"_I changed my mind_," I managed to say.

I don't think I've ever been so close to literally drooling over a woman before in my entire life.

"_Okay_," she agreed, sliding the strap back into place. "_Well, are you just going to stand there and look, or…"_

"_I think I'm going to look for another minute, if that's okay with you_," I said as I took a step closer to her. "_I just…wow. Alex. I'm…wow."_

"_I love it when you can't put a whole sentence together_," she teased lightly as I moved even closer.

I was itching to touch her, but I held back, knowing that the anticipation would draw out the pleasure for both of us.

"_Then you must be ecstatic right about now_."

She started to say something, surely a comment about the ironic nature of my statement, but at that moment, I closed the last bit of distance between us and then got down on my knees, so her attempt at speech was short-lived and turned into a sharp intake of breath as I finally reached out to touch her.

I started at her feet and those ridiculously high heels that accent her perfectly toned legs.

And then I worked my way up.

I took my time with it, too.

She ran her fingers through my hair and threw her head back against the wall and she was begging me for more before I even took off my jacket.

By the time I brought my lips to hers, she was pulling my shirt from my slacks and tugging desperately at my belt buckle.

I couldn't bring myself to stop kissing her, but between the two of us, we still managed to get me undressed with minimal damage to my clothes and then I scooped her up and carried her to the couch.

"_I love this_," I said, fingering one of the lacy straps. "_But it has to go_."

"_Well, you said we're still partners, right? I put it on. You take it off_."

So I did.

And now, an hour or so later, we were completely satiated.

But we didn't have anywhere that we needed to be, so we were both content to lay on the couch, with me stroking her hair.

"Mike and Liz sure left in a hurry tonight," I commented.

"It's their four-week anniversary."

"Huh. Yeah, I didn't think about that. It coincides with our return to Major Case."

"Uh huh. She was a little upset about Detective Coleman. Or not upset. Jealous, I guess."

"Mike didn't do anything wrong."

"I didn't think that he did," she replied. She hesitated for a minute and then said, "Maas said she's attractive."

"I guess. If you like that kind of look."

"What kind of look is that?" she asked, lifting up again to look at me with curiosity.

"The kind that's not you," I answered with a smile.

"You're so full of it," she said on a laugh. "But I love you anyway."

She leaned down and kissed me and I felt the stirring of renewed life in areas I'd written off for the night.

I brought my hands up to her cheeks, gently holding her face as we continued the kiss.

After a few more minutes, we finally pulled apart and she settled against me again, although she'd initiated the launch sequence with that kiss so it was only a matter of time before I was going to have to have her again.

"We need to find someone for Stanley," she said, throwing me off with her random topic.

"Um…why?"

"Because. He's been letting himself play second fiddle for twenty years now, both to Bill Casteel and to his dead former partner. It's time he had a woman who wants to put him first, over everything and everyone."

"You're going to play matchmaker now?" I teased.

"Maybe. Although I can't think of anyone off the top of my head. But he's such a nice man. He shouldn't have to be lonely."

"At the risk of sounding too much like a guy, maybe he just needs to go out and get laid. With someone other than Lisa."

"It's not just about sex."

"I'm not saying that it is. But maybe it needs to start there. I mean, think about it. He's been sleeping with a married woman for twenty-plus years. And he hasn't come right out and said it, but I'm pretty sure he wasn't sleeping with his own wife. Not for a very long time anyway."

"So you're saying he needs a rebound girl."

"Maybe."

"Hey, we could hook him up with Detective Coleman. Or wait, maybe your old pal Agent Hooker."

"Not _my_ old pal," I corrected as I chuckled at her. "And something tells me we need to just avoid Coleman altogether. I mean, what if you set them up and they hit it off? I don't think Liz could deal with sitting across from her at a table at Pete's."

"No, you're right about that. I think she's really been through it with men in the past. Her ex-husband was a cheater. And then Ross…"

"Ross cheated on her?"

"She said that he was constantly on the look-out for the next best thing. Oh, and did you know they never slept together?"

"Liz and Ross?"

"Uh huh. I always just assumed they had, but she said they didn't."

"I'm pretty sure I don't want to think about Ross sleeping with anybody. And maybe I shouldn't say that, considering he's dead, but still…he just didn't strike me as the ladies' man type."

"No," she mused thoughtfully. "Me, either. I'm just glad Liz found Mike. And that he found her."

"Your romantic side is showing," I said playfully, sliding my hands up and down her back.

"Well, that's your fault. I was never a romantic before you."

"Oh, it must've been in there somewhere," I argued lightly. "I've seen you watch chick flicks. You're a sucker for the happy endings."

"That makes me a romantic? Then yeah, I guess so. But so are you."

"Absolutely," I agreed. I moved my hands further downward, grabbing onto her backside and pulling her tightly against me as I asked, "So are you wearing another power suit tomorrow?"

"You're not interested in the suit. You only want to know what's going to be under it."

"Busted," I agreed as I pushed my hips against hers. "Can you blame me?"

She flashed me an answering smirk, and it was just so…Alex.

That look did more to turn me on than the lingerie she'd been wearing earlier.

Or at least, in a different way.

I kissed her quickly and then wrapped my arms around her and shifted us on the couch so that she was beneath me.

In this position, she always seems so small and it never ceases to amaze me how someone of her size can be my whole world, but what can I say?

She absolutely is.

It's like what she mentioned wanting for Maas.

Someone to whom he's the most important person in the world.

Which is exactly how Alex makes me feel.

Second to no one.

"Did I tell you how beautiful you looked on TV today?" I asked her. "And how I love the way you put those reporters in their place? And how incredible you are to be able to keep on topic and never once reveal something by accident just because they pissed you off? And how loyal you are to publicly defend Yuille and never once put his or Wyatt's head on the block for that twins screw up?"

"No," she said, smiling fully now after my ramblings. "You didn't mention any of that."

"Well, I think _all_ of that," I said pointedly, leaning down to capture her lips again.

It was lingering and arousal-inspiring and filled with mutual adoration.

"And did I tell you today how much I love you?" I asked her when I pulled back.

She still had her eyes closed until I asked the question, and then she opened them up and looked at me and smiled.

"Um…I think so. A few times."

"Only a few? I'm slacking."

"I think you need to correct the oversight," she murmured, pulling me down closer until her lips were a fraction of an inch from mine. "But don't tell me. Just show me."

And so I did.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"Captain, for the past three days, I've asked the same question, and I still haven't gotten an answer. Was the victim a drug addict?"<p>

I wanted to point out that for the past three days, _everyone's_ been asking the same damn questions, so that didn't make Miss Channel 7 special, but instead I smiled at her and took a breath before answering.

"To which victim are you referring?"

Channel 7 rolled her eyes at me, and then looked around in annoyance, as though seeking confirmation from her comrades that I was the biggest moron in town.

"Sally O'Hara," she said firmly.

"Okay, because I wasn't sure since there are _four_ other victims," I reminded her. "Samantha Wright, Kaleigh Marquez, and two others that are still as yet unidentified."

"Yes, Captain," she said in irritation. "I'm referring to Sally O'Hara."

This was a game we've been playing since Monday.

They all want to talk about the senator's daughter.

And I want to remind them that the others are just as important, despite having non-famous fathers.

"The detectives investigating this case have not found any evidence that the crimes are drug-related," I stated.

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Well then maybe you're not asking the right questions," I retorted. "Do we have any leads? Yes. Yesterday, a connection was found between two of the girls. Do we have any suspects? No, not yet, but the detectives are working hard to establish who may have had the means and opportunity to commit such heinous acts. Do we know why the killer targeted these girls in particular? No. Not at this time."

I paused and looked out over the press corps for a moment, and then I said, "Now, since I just did _your_ job for a while, I think I'll go back inside and do _mine_."

The commissioner had decided after the initial conference that the courthouse looked too cold and impersonal, so subsequent sessions were handled outside of 1PP, which suited me just fine. That meant as soon as I was done, I could slip back inside and get back to work.

So after my slightly sarcastic statement, I turned to go inside.

"Captain Eames!" was the chorus of shouts, but I recognized one voice in particulate.

The mouse from Monday.

"Herb," I said, pointing out the reporter from an online New York newspaper.

He smiled at me and stood up a little straighter as he pushed his glasses further up on his face.

"Thank you," he said. "Um…the latest victim. Is it true that there was a note recovered with the body?"

Where in the hell had he gotten _that_ scoop?

It was really hard to say, but I couldn't believe my luck.

"I'm sorry, but I can't comment on that," I said disingenuously.

Herb raised an eyebrow at me, and asked, "You can't confirm or deny? I'm not asking for the specific verbiage, just an acknowledgement."

"Captain, doesn't your lack of denial actually constitute a confirmation?" Channel 7 yelled out to me.

I glanced over at her and flashed her what I hoped was a condescending smile.

"Don't put words in my mouth, Theresa."

"But don't you think that the public has a right to know the details when there's a killer on the loose in Manhattan?"

"It's not just Manhattan. There are five victims, remember? And even though the victims themselves have been recovered in only three of the boroughs, we have reason to believe that he's comfortable in all five boroughs."

"So…the Five Boroughs Killer?"

"That's original. Did you make that up just now?"

Theresa glared at me, and I could tell that she was getting ready to go for the throat, so I turned to face the masses, which I noticed now included several national networks, including CNN, and then I cleared my throat before speaking.

"The fact that the killer isn't limited to Manhattan is just another reason why it's so important that there's a department such as Major Case, where a multi-jurisdictional investigation can be conducted smoothly and efficiently without the ruffling of feathers that often happens when separate precincts are forced to work together on a case. The detectives working to solve these murders are the best that the department has to offer, and I feel confident that each day brings us significantly closer to getting this killer off of the streets. That's all for today. Thank you."

I could hear reporters calling my name even after I went inside 1PP and let the door close behind me.

As was now my routine, I stood for a moment with my back against the door and just breathed.

It was insane how much the TV stations were talking about me now.

Each day, they'd run a clip of the press conference, and then in true media style, they'd spend more time talking about _me_ instead of what I was talking _about_.

Apparently, they all love my _edgy no-nonsense approach_ and my _razor-sharp wit that keeps the reporters in line_.

The commissioner had called me earlier this morning to tell me that NBC had asked for an exclusive.

"_After you catch the guy_," Zaring said. "_They want to do some kind of special report called '_Tracking a Killer'_ and Lauer wants to interview you to get the lowdown. Matt Lauer, Eames, can you believe it?"_

"_I really don't think that's a good idea. Besides, I have no idea how close we are to making any kind of arrest. And not only that, but I'm not going to go on TV and talk about how _we_ caught a killer when Goren and Logan are the ones doing all the work_."

"_That's how the game's played, Captain. Get used to it_," he said firmly, and then he hung up on me.

If I wasn't careful, I was going to end up on permanent media duty.

If that happened, I was going to have to quit. I mean, one case…yeah, I'd take one for the team.

But on a regular basis?

No thank you.

I didn't remember Ross ever spending this much time on camera.

I finally stepped away from the door and headed down the hall towards the elevators, but before I got there, my cell phone started ringing.

Zaring.

Great.

"Yes, sir," I answered.

"What the hell's this note business? And why'd you let that piranha from Channel 7 weasel the information out of you? Damn, Eames, I thought you were better than that!"

I almost laughed, but I didn't.

"Sir, I can assure you that I didn't unwittingly divulge any information."

"But the note…"

"Doesn't exist," I interrupted. "The tip line's been ringing off the hook with crazies who want to take credit. A false lead will help the detectives weed through the bullshit. Sir."

"There's no note?"

"No, sir."

"Genius," he boomed. "You're a damn genius. Nice work, Captain. Keep it up."

He hung up, leaving me with dial tone, and I couldn't help but smile as I stepped onto the elevator.

_This is going to be a great day_, I thought.

When I woke up this morning, I found myself alone in the bed, and while that used to be a normal occurrence, for the past year it was a rarity.

I'd gotten up and wandered into the kitchen, where I found Bobby asleep at the table, his head resting on his arms, which were laying on top of case notes.

The fifth victim had been found yesterday morning, and he and Logan had worked tirelessly all day in an effort to get a handle on the perp.

Bobby had gone to bed with me at midnight, but his mind must not have allowed him to go to sleep. I could understand that. I just wished he'd gotten me up so that we could hash it out together.

I told him that after waking him up by kissing his cheek.

He sat up quickly, slightly disoriented, and then he glanced down at his work and said, "_Oh, I'm sorry. I guess I didn't make it back to bed."_

"_No, you didn't. Why didn't you wake me up? I would've gone through it with you."_

"_You need your rest."_

"_And you don't?"_

"_I'm not the one on camera, day in and day out_," he'd said with a grin, scooting his chair back and patting his lap for me to sit down.

But I didn't sit down sideways on his lap. Instead, I straddled him and took his face in my hands as I kissed him thoroughly.

"_So I guess you're not mad that I slept in the kitchen."_

"_Not this time. But I will be next time, if you don't ask me to join you. I don't care what I look like on camera, okay?"_

"_Yes, ma'am_," he answered with a smirk, and then he kissed me again.

And then, since it was Thursday morning and we hadn't made love since Tuesday night, we worked together to remedy that lapse.

So see?

The day started off great.

After we finished, he and I discussed the case while we showered and dressed for the day.

"_We still need to find out the names of those other two girls."_

Jane Doe # 1 and Jane Doe # 5.

Those were the unidentified ones.

The second girl found was Kaleigh Marquez, and after extensive searching, we learned that she and Samantha Wright had both volunteered at a soup kitchen in the Bronx last summer.

It was a stretch to think that had something to do with their deaths, but so far it was the only connection between any of the victims.

Of course, if we could get the final two identities, then maybe there would be some more light shed on the reason for the killer choosing them in particular.

Or maybe there was no reason.

Maybe it was about opportunity.

Maybe this was just some sicko who enjoyed killing.

Or sick_os_.

Bobby and Logan both felt pretty confident about the _more than one_ theory.

"_Still no luck with the tip line_?" I asked him.

"_Too much luck. It's taking forever to figure out which calls are for real."_

And that's what had planted the seed for my little game of misdirection this morning with the press.

Herb's question had been unexpected, and yet it was the perfect opportunity.

After the press conference, I went back to my office. I called in Wyatt and Yuille so that I could get an update on the Schuler case. I was surprised that no questions had been asked about that at this morning's session, but it was probably only because there was so much going on with this other case.

_The Five Boroughs Killer_, I thought with annoyance. Why did the press always find it necessary to name the serial killers?

"She's not using her credit cards or her passport," Wyatt told me.

"Did you check the sister's accounts? Better yet, did you check if there are any other siblings?"

"Um…yes we checked for other siblings. There aren't any. And no, we didn't check the sister's accounts. Can we do that?"

"Get a warrant. She's aiding the escape of a wanted suspect, so that makes her open to investigation."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And where are we on the judge's actual killer?"

Because Martha Schuler had hired that part out.

She'd caught on to the judge's cheating ways when she discovered he was being blackmailed by Misty Hahn. So then she'd contacted Misty and paid her to lure her husband out to Roosevelt Island where she had him killed. And then later, for whatever reason, she'd killed another of Misty's johns, setting the hooker up so that it would look like she'd killed both men.

"Nowhere," Yuille said. "We went to talk to Misty again to pump her for more information on this guy, and…well…"

"Don't tell me."

Wyatt and Yuille had both clammed up, taking my statement at face value, so I said it for them.

"You can't find her."

"No, ma'am."

"She's out on bail, so she's violating if she's left the jurisdiction. Put out an APB and send a unit to sit on her apartment. I want her brought in, and if she truly tried to run, I want her bail revoked. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am. We're...sorry about…all of this.," Wyatt said apologetically.

"Don't be sorry. Just find these women. Both of them."

They left my office and I saw Granger and Meeks lurking outside my door, so I waved them in.

"What's up?"

"We've got a suspect in the Hyland case," Meeks said. "We need to go pick him up."

"Okay, then. Go," I said agreeably.

"It's Father Carson," Granger clarified.

"The victim's priest?" I asked, and they both nodded. "How sure are you?"

"He lied about where he was, and he lied about knowing the victim. The TOD and witness statements combine to show that the victim was at the community center within twenty minutes of his death, and two other kids who were there that night have placed Father Carson at the scene."

"No physical evidence?"

"We're still waiting on lab results from the trace evidence that the ME pulled from the body, but…"

"Yeah. People are running lately," I said drolly. "Okay, go get him, but be nice. Put him in a room and have a chat with him. Let me know when you get back, because I'd like to listen in."

"You got it, Captain," Meeks said.

They left my office and I could see Bobby and Logan coming into the squad room with a suspect in tow. Or more likely a witness who needed a little convincing to open up and share.

I got up from my desk because I wanted to find out the story on this guy, but then my phone rang, so I paused and snagged it from the cradle.

"Captain Eames," Maas said when I answered. And he sounded strange. For some reason, he enunciated each syllable of my name.

It's amazing how rapidly this day was taking a downward turn.

"Captain Maas," I replied expectantly. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you upstairs. Like, _now_."

"Okay," I said carefully. "Um…are you going to give me a hint?"

There was a weighty pause and then when he started talking again, his voice had dropped to a barely audible decibel, and it was clear that now he was talking to me as Stanley instead of as my boss.

"No, just...no."

"I'm on my way."

"Good. And Alex…"

"Yeah?"

"Bring your armor."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Maas POV**

* * *

><p>Moran completely blindsided me.<p>

And I don't think he meant to.

I think he expected me to feel…I don't know.

Differently, somehow.

But what I felt was…betrayal.

Outrage.

Apprehension.

Resentment.

And most of it was on behalf of Alex and Bobby.

"_Stanley, come into my office_," Moran had said to me a few minutes ago.

Casually.

Almost cheerfully.

As though today was going to be a great day.

And up until now, it had been.

In fact, it had been an eye-opening and life-altering week, and moments ago I was flying high and full of self-confidence.

So maybe I should back up a little bit.

Monday night, I got a text from Lisa just as I was leaving Pete's after a nice, relaxing evening with two couples who always managed to make me want what I don't have.

What _they_ have.

_**Meet me in twenty minutes.**_

That's what the text said.

That's what my life has turned in to.

She sneaks away from Bill a couple of times a week, and I'm just supposed to drop everything to be with her.

I couldn't blame her for expecting that I'd comply.

I mean, I've been complying for twenty years.

And never once have I cheated on her.

How sad is that?

I've stayed faithful to a married woman who was never going to leave her husband.

For some reason, Monday night I felt like I'd reached my breaking point.

Because I was never going to have what _they_ have if I kept allowing myself to come in second place.

With my mind made up, I went to the hotel. Not the one where I'm staying, but the one where we've been meeting for two decades.

She was on me as soon as I entered the room, but I finally managed to extricate myself.

"_Just…wait a minute_," I told her.

"_We don't have that long."_

"_That's fine. This won't take that long,"_ I said firmly.

And my tone must have clued her in to the fact that I was serious.

She stepped back from me and let out an annoyed sigh as she ran her hand through her hair.

"_Stan, I'm not leaving Bill. I've told you that, and you said you're okay with it, so…"_

"_I'm not."_

"_You're not _what_?"_ she asked in confusion, and it struck me right at that moment how one-sided our relationship had been and I wondered exactly when it got that way.

She didn't love me.

She couldn't, or we wouldn't be in this situation.

"_I'm not okay with it. And I'm not doing this anymore."_

Initially, I'd planned to give her one last chance to leave Bill, but as I stood there looking at her, it hit me that I didn't really _want_ her to leave him. I'd been with her for so long because it was habit, and it seemed to work for both of us, but the thought of having something meaningful with her, something more than sex…I just couldn't picture it.

"_You're breaking up with me?"_ she asked incredulously.

"_If you want to call it that. I want more, Lisa. I deserve more."_

"_Of course you do,"_ she said, as she moved closer and ran her hands down the front of my shirt. "_We all want more, Stan. But this is us, okay? This is how we work."_

"_It _was_ how we worked_," I corrected. "_It doesn't work for me anymore."_

"_Since when? Did you meet somebody? Clare just kicked you out ten days ago."_

"_I'm well aware of when that happened. And no, I haven't met anyone."_

"_Then what's the problem?" _she asked coyly as she started to unbuckle my belt.

I put my hands over hers to stop her, even though my resolve was crumbling because it was always so easy for us to check our feelings at the door while we took care of our physical needs.

But not this time.

"_The problem is that I don't love you anymore."_

She faltered for a moment and then looked up at me and said, "_That's okay. This isn't about love."_

"_Well maybe it should be."_

With that, I turned away from her and walked out without looking back.

And then I headed straight for the nearest bar.

I was already a little buzzed from the drinks I'd had at Pete's, so after two more at the bar around the corner from the hotel, I was feeling no pain.

"_You look like a man with a lot on his mind_."

I glanced over at the woman who'd spoken to me as she eased onto the bar stool next to mine.

"_You could say that."_

_"So…solitude or company?"_ she asked me.

I went with company.

And let me tell you…she was excellent company.

It was probably pretty stupid of me to jump out of one woman's bed and into another, but the lady I met at the bar on Monday night had no expectations of any kind of follow-up.

And I kind of thought that maybe I needed that…needed to force myself to move on before I changed my mind and went back to Lisa with my tail between my legs.

The next night, I didn't plan on a repeat performance, but Lisa texted me.

_**We need to talk. Thirty minutes.**_

I replied, which is something I very rarely ever did.

And I said _no_.

Then I went to a bar and chatted up a few different women until I found one who seemed interested and willing and then I took her back to my hotel.

So after twenty years of only ever being with the same woman, I was with two different women in two nights.

During the day Wednesday, I wondered if maybe I needed to call my own intervention, maybe have Bobby and Logan out for drinks to talk about my newfound habit.

But their case picked up, and I was busy, too, and when Wednesday evening rolled around and Lisa texted me again – _**please, I really need to see you**_ – I didn't feel quite so tempted as I'd felt before.

And I didn't feel the urge to go out and find company.

So I had dinner in the restaurant of my hotel, and then I went to my room alone.

And I felt okay.

Almost like a weight had been lifted.

Thursday morning, I went in to work a little early so that I could get a jump on the day, and then a few hours later, I flipped on the TV to watch Alex's briefing.

"_Captain, doesn't your lack of denial actually constitute a confirmation_?" the reporter from Channel 7 asked Alex.

_Don't take the bait_, I chanted internally.

Not that I thought she would.

Alex might not like doing the briefings, but she handles it like it was her destiny.

If she wasn't careful, Zaring might start making a push for her to take over as the media liaison.

Or at least, he might if there was anyone as qualified as Alex to run Major Case.

Which at the moment, there wasn't.

It was amazing how quickly she took to that job, and how easily she'd earned the trust and respect of the detectives working under her.

I'd heard Moran mention on more than one occasion that she was one of the best he'd ever seen.

I wondered what he'd do if he ever found out about her and Goren.

He was certainly too smart to do something that would be detrimental to the department, but still…he'd be _forced_ to do something.

Unless I could get him to hurry up and sign off on the change of departmental regulations.

I looked back up at the TV as Alex was making her wrap-up statement.

"…_and I feel confident that each day brings us significantly closer to getting this killer off of the streets. That's all for today. Thank you."_

I watched for another moment as the reporters called out to her retreating form, and then I reached up and clicked off the set.

A note on the fifth victim?

I was pretty sure she'd made that up.

_Nice misdirection, Captain_, I thought.

Although I guess she's good at that, considering that's what she and Bobby had to do on a regular basis.

And isn't that what I was _helping_ her do by renting out her apartment?

I felt honored that they trusted me enough to bring me into their little circle.

Although to be honest, I'm pretty sure that's what set me down the path of being dissatisfied with Lisa.

I was the odd-man out.

They all had someone with whom they could share their day, and I had no one.

Even when I had Clare, I really had no one.

She never wanted to hear about my day because she loathed everything about the job that took her true love away from her.

And I guess I can't really blame her. She probably did me a favor by kicking me out, because I'm not sure if I would've ever been man enough to leave.

But now things were going to be different.

I left my office and went down the hall, only to find Moran's office door closed.

"_He's…in with someone_," Denise said vaguely.

"_Zaring?"_

"_No."_

"_Okay,_" I replied slowly, surprised at her unwillingness to share. "_Can you let me know when he's done? I need to go over some changes to the department regs."_

"_Sure, Captain,"_ she agreed.

I went back to my office and then checked my voice mail.

Thirteen messages since I left the office last night.

Eleven of them were from Lisa.

"_Stan, don't do this. Don't just shut me out. You owe me more than that. I sacrificed my marriage for you_."

"Sacrificed," I mumbled mockingly as I hit the delete button. "Maybe, but you sure as hell weren't ready to leave it, were you?"

"_Please, Stan. Meet me tonight so that we can talk_."

Delete.

"_Twenty years, and I don't even get the courtesy of a returned phone call? Fine. Fuck you, Stan. You're a selfish son of a bitch and a lousy lay. Good luck finding someone willing to put up with you_."

And _delete_.

Although that last message stung a little.

More than a little, really. I hadn't meant for it to get ugly between us, but her viciousness only served to solidify my opinion of our situation.

It had run its course.

I pushed the button to listen to the final message, expecting another verbal lashing from Lisa.

"_Um…this is Traci. I hope it's okay that I called. I was going to make something up, but the truth is that I had a really nice time the other night, and I was hoping maybe you'd like to get together again sometime._"

I stared at the phone, truly surprised to hear from Tuesday night's one-night stand.

And okay, so maybe she didn't _want_ to just be a one-night stand.

Huh.

I mean, I'd left her my number because it seemed like the polite thing to do, but I hadn't actually expected her to use it.

But the timing of her call couldn't have been better because it sure as hell took the bite out of Lisa's message.

Not that I thought Traci was going to be _the one_ or anything, but apparently she'd found me to be good company.

And _not_ lousy in bed.

So I called her back at the number she'd left for me.

"_You're a lawyer_?" I asked her in surprise when she came on the line. A secretary had answered her phone and had rattled off an impressive list of partners.

"_Stanley?"_

"_Yeah, sorry. It's me. I guess I never got around to asking what you do."_

She laughed lightly, maybe a little self-consciously, and I liked the sound of it.

"_I never asked you either. I think we had other things on our minds."_

"_I think we did,"_ I agreed. _"So, um…I'm a cop."_

"_And you're humble,"_ she replied. "_You're Captain Maas, the Deputy Chief of Detectives. I heard it on your voice mail."_

"_Oh, yeah,"_ I said, and now it was my turn to laugh. _"I promise I'm a better detective than it seems at the moment."_

"_I'm sure you are."_

There was silence for a moment and then I realized that she was waiting for me to ask her out, since that's what she'd suggested in her message.

"_So, I'm…I'm glad you called. And that you want to get together. Um…how about tomorrow night?"_

"_Tomorrow night would be great,"_ she agreed.

We talked for a few more minutes, and she gave me her address so that I could pick her up for our date.

I hung up the phone and had a smile on my face.

So when a few minutes later Moran said, "_Stanley, come into my office_," through the intercom that he routinely used to summon me, I was still slightly distracted by my thoughts of Traci, and I wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary from Moran because like I said…he'd sounded upbeat and borderline excited.

In fact, I had every intention of sweet-talking the boss into coming around to my way of thinking about the regs, since it sounded like he was in an amenable mood,.

Besides, the no-fraternization rule was antiquated and pointless and it showed a lack of trust in our detectives, telling them that they weren't adult enough to make smart choices about their personal relationships.

So I grabbed my version of the revised regs and left my office, heading for his.

"_What's up, Chief_?" I asked him when I opened his door and stepped into his office.

And that was when I realized that this day was going to hell in a hand basket, and I immediately started thinking of an excuse that would get me out of the office in a hurry, because I _really_ needed to call Alex.

She needed to be here for this.

And she needed to be prepared for a fight, because I had a pretty good idea of where this unexpected meeting was heading.

See, when I stepped inside Moran's office, I saw that he wasn't alone.

There, in the visitor's chair, sat Danny Ross.

**TBC...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Logan POV **

* * *

><p>"I need to go upstairs for a few minutes."<p>

"Is everything okay?"

"I'm not sure. Maas said for me to bring my armor."

I glanced at Bobby and then looked back at Alex.

"You think Moran's pissed about you mentioning evidence that doesn't exist?"

"I haven't even talked to Moran today. And he probably doesn't know it's false. In fact, you know, he usually calls me after the press conferences," Alex said, trailing off thoughtfully.

"You want us to wait and talk to this guy when you get back?"

"He claims to know one of the victims?"

"He claims to know _two_ of the victims," Bobby explained. "And he says he's afraid to talk."

"He thinks if he says what he knows, then he'll be in danger?" she asked in surprise as she eyeballed our witness through the window of the conference room where he sat waiting. "He doesn't exactly look like a teenage girl to me."

I shrugged, not really having a viable answer for her.

"Don't wait for me," she stated. "Without knowing what's going on upstairs, I have no idea how long it'll take. Find out what he knows and then run it down, okay? Just send me a text if you get something."

"Yes, ma'am," I answered.

"And you're going to send me a text, too, right?" Bobby asked her pointedly.

He looked like he was worried for her, and I didn't blame him. The political game is a finicky one, and if Maas was warning her, then whatever was going on couldn't be good.

She nodded at him, and I stood patiently while the two of them shared a look.

One of those looks that makes me miss Liz.

Although unless this witness guy came up with something earth-shattering, the morgue was probably our next stop, so then I'd get the chance to share one of those looks with Liz.

Things with us were going extremely well after my little misstep on Monday.

And I only call it _little_ because even if I didn't handle it in a textbook manner, I had the very best of intentions.

Never once did I think about Michelle inappropriately.

Never once did I consider doing anything other than letting her down easy.

Because I wasn't kidding when I told Liz that I'm crazy in love with her.

"_I'm sorry again about that comment,"_ she told me Monday night as we hurried out of Pete's.

"_I don't care about that."_

"_I do. I hurt you, and that's something I don't ever want to do."_

"_I hurt _you_ by making you think that maybe there was a better offer on the table, and honestly sweetheart, that couldn't be any further from the truth. So can we just agree that we're both a little new to this committed relationship thing, and call today water under the bridge?"_

"_I don't want to call it that," _she'd answered. By this time, we were turning the corner, halfway to her place, and she stopped me, pushing me against the Plexiglas enclosure of the bus stop._ "It's our anniversary. _That's_ what I want to call today, okay?"_

And then she'd kissed me…and damn, did she ever kiss me. I don't know if she was trying to prove something to me, or to herself, but she knocked my socks off.

Minutes, possibly hours or days later, she finally released me and took a small step back, looking at me challengingly as though she expected me to comment on her very public display.

"_Honey, we can call _every _day our anniversary if it means you're going to kiss me like that,_" I told her.

She smiled at me and then she kissed me again, and it was just as passionate, just as arousing as the first time.

When we finally came up for air, I could barely think straight for wanting her.

"_We need to go home,"_ I said as I took hold of her hand and started hustling down the block.

"_Why?"_ she asked knowingly, seemingly enjoying my rush.

"_You know why. If we don't, we're going to end up getting arrested for public indecency, because I'm pretty sure they frown upon people having sex at a bus stop."_

We made it home, but just barely.

In fact, we didn't even close the door all the way, because she was already pulling off my jacket, and when it hit the floor, it landed in the doorway, so when I shoved on the door with my foot in an effort to close it, it got hung up on the jacket.

So we made love against the wall in her foyer while the front door stood open a good six inches.

We could hear the cars passing and pedestrians as they walked by…but none of that mattered.

All I could think about was how close I'd come to screwing up, and how miserable my life would be without her, and how much I wanted to show her that she's absolutely the only woman I'll ever want or need.

I can't swear that I got my point across, but I made a pretty good effort.

And the next day, I showed her again.

Wednesday, too.

This morning, I got ready for work alone. She'd received a call-out at three a.m., and she hadn't made it back home by the time I left for work.

In fact, she most likely still hadn't been home. Usually when she went out so close to the regular work day, she just stayed.

But so I haven't seen her since the middle of the night when she slipped out of our bed and kissed me goodbye.

And I _miss _her.

Crazy, huh?

_Or maybe not_, I thought as I watched Alex and Bobby and their marathon look.

Because I think we're pretty close to having something like what they have.

Alex finally tore her gaze away from Bobby, and then she gave me a nod and headed for the elevator.

"What do you think it is?" I asked.

"I have no idea," he replied, still watching her as she walked.

I watched, too, just so that _his_ watching wouldn't seem suspicious.

Of course, I didn't exactly look at the same part of her that _he_ was looking at, but still…I've got his back when it comes to hiding this thing with her.

Because I can't imagine what it must feel like to have to worry about getting busted, so I was going to make sure I did everything I could to help keep that from happening. And since Maas was in their corner, too, I felt confident that they'd be okay, but it still had to be in the back of their minds.

"Okay, so…how do you want to play Albert?" I asked him.

He stopped staring at the now-empty hallway and instead turned to look at where our witness was waiting.

"We need to play the heavy. Both of us. We need him to be more afraid of us than he is of anybody else."

Twenty minutes later, Albert was shaking in his mud-caked boots.

"Lay off, man, okay?" he shouted at Bobby. "I don't need to see that shit!"

"You're gonna see more of it if you don't help us out," Bobby replied, sliding photo after photo of the dead girls across the table, letting them come to rest in front of our witness. "Because he's going to keep killing until we catch him."

"And if you know something and don't tell us," I said threateningly. I tapped my finger on one of the more gruesome pictures and added, "Then you're just as bad as he is."

"I'm _not_. I didn't do _anything_, I swear."

"And we believe you. But you know something."

"I…it's…yeah, okay," he said at last. "Just put that shit away, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," Bobby said accommodatingly as he scooped up the photos. "But you need to tell us what you know."

"Erin Lieberman," he stated. "The girl from last Wednesday. I recognized her picture on the news."

I caught Bobby's eye and he nodded at me and then looked through the stack of pictures and pulled out the one of Jane Doe # 1.

"This is her? You're sure?"

"Yeah. She lived on my block. I used to see her all the time, out walking her dog."

"Why'd you wait so long to come forward? We showed her picture on Tuesday," Bobby asked him.

He just shrugged his response.

"We're going to need that address," I told him, sliding a notebook across the table.

"Who else?" Bobby asked him. "When you called the tip line, you said you thought you knew two of the girls."

"Yeah, and that tip line was supposed to be anonymous!" he shouted, suddenly belligerent again. "That has to be a violation of my civil rights or something, right? You can't record and trace my phone calls!"

"When you call the police department?" I asked. "Yeah, we can, so get over it. Which other girl do you know?"

He sighed and shook his head, mumbling to himself as he scribbled out an address on the notepad.

"The famous one. The senator's daughter."

"You don't know her name?"

"No, but I've seen her face on the TV enough to know who she is, and I saw her with Erin early last week."

"Wait, so the girls knew each other?" I asked sharply.

I don't know why I'd just assumed that when he said he knew two of them, it was in passing, and not because _they_ knew each other.

"Yeah, they were out on the sidewalk, laughing about something. You know how girls are at that age."

He shoved the notebook back across the table and then focused his gaze downward, avoiding eye contact.

"Uh huh," Bobby said thoughtfully, catching my eye again. I pulled out my phone and sent Jacobs a text message.

_**Has the background check on Albert Gandy come in yet?**_

While I did that, Bobby moved closer to Albert.

"No, you tell me. How _are_ girls at that age?"

"What do you mean?" Albert replied, still focused on the table.

Bobby leaned down until he was in Albert's line of sight, and he said, "Do you have a thing for teenage girls? Is that why you know so much about Erin Lieberman?"

My phone buzzed just as Albert worked himself up into an indignant rage.

"Are you calling me a pervert?" he yelled as he hopped up from his chair. "I'm not some sicko who lusts after young girls just because they put themselves on display with their short little skirts and their tight shirts…it's…it's…sinful, and…disgusting, and…"

"And _you_," I said pointedly after reading the text.

_**Your boy's sporting a record of peeping and indecent exposure, both counts involving teenage girls.**_

Which would explain why he'd been afraid to come in.

Not because he feared for his safety from the killer, but because he didn't want us to suspect _him_.

"Me? What?"

"I think you need to sit down, Mr. Gandy," I said firmly.

He continued to stand until Bobby reached out and put his hand on Albert's shoulder and more or less shoved him down into his chair.

"Now," I began, handing my phone off to Bobby so that he'd be up to speed. "Let's start from the beginning. Your neighbor. Erin. Tell us about her."

An hour later, we left the conference room, and I felt like I needed a shower.

"That guy is seriously perverted," I mumbled to Bobby as we went back to our desks.

"Uh huh," he agreed. "But he gave us another name."

"Yeah, because he was watching the poor girl."

"I know," he agreed as he picked up his phone. "But as soon as we confirm his alibi, we're going to have to let him go. Having an unhealthy obsession isn't a crime. Not when he doesn't act on it."

And lucky for Albert, he works nights. His boss confirmed that he'd been at work during each of the four nighttime TODs.

Of course, that left him wide open for Samantha Wright, since she'd been killed during the daytime, but I didn't see it, especially since she wasn't one that he knew.

_And_ since he'd called the tip line.

So we streeted Albert and then sat down and put our heads together.

The only remaining Jane Doe was yesterday's victim.

The fact that Erin and Sally knew each other…and were killed less than a week apart…that had to mean something.

"The connection has to be through them," Bobby said, nearly reading my mind.

"I agree, except why kill Kaleigh Marquez in between the two? If Erin and Sally were the instigating targets, wouldn't you think they'd be the first two? I mean, I can see moving on to other girls once he got a taste for it, but if we think they're the center of this thing, then why weren't both of them first?"

"I don't know, but now that we know the identity of the first girl, we need to look at her life more closely. Something prompted the killer to go through a lot of trouble to erase her identity, and then, maybe because he saw that it worked even if only for a little while, he kept doing it on the subsequent victims."

"But maybe we can still track the killer through Erin," I finished thoughtfully. "It makes sense that it's someone in her life."

He shrugged and stared at me for a minute and then shook his head.

"I don't know," he admitted. "What about this…two killers, two ideas on who to kill."

"You think they're taking turns?"

"We've got a connection between Erin and Sally…numbers one and three. And then a connection between Kaleigh and Samantha, numbers two and four."

"Which would mean the important ones are Erin and Kaleigh. They were the first of each killer."

"It's a theory," he said, looking slightly frustrated. "But yeah, I think it's a place to start."

"Nothing from Alex yet?" I asked him after a minute.

"No," he said, tossing his pen onto the desk and then leaning back in his chair.

"Send her a text," I suggested.

"I can't do that."

"Why not? Maybe it'll rescue her from a budget meeting or something."

"Yeah, but…yeah, okay. I'll just tell her that we're done with Albert."

He pulled out his phone and sent her a message.

A minute later, his phone buzzed with her reply. He glanced at it and then read it out loud.

_**Call Liz and have her meet you and Logan at Pete's. Urgent - do it now. I'll be there as soon as I can.**_

"Pete's at noon on a workday?" I questioned.

"Something's up," he said quietly. "Something's definitely up."

"So…now what?"

"You heard the boss. Call Liz, and let's get out of here."

**TBC...**


	10. Chapter 10

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I stepped off the elevator and was surprised to be met immediately by Captain Maas.<p>

"What's going on?" I asked him as he grabbed onto my elbow and led me down the hall.

"I wanted to tell you before you go in there. You need to have your feet under you," he said firmly.

"Captain…"

"Stanley," he corrected quickly. "Right now it's Stanley, because I'm telling you this as your friend, Alex. You're about to be blown away."

I raised an eyebrow at him as my mind scrambled through possibilities, but I was drawing a blank as to what would cause this kind of urgency.

"Ross. He's not dead," he stated.

"He's…not…what?"

"Danny Ross is alive and well and sitting in Moran's office. And he seems to want his old job back. And I faked a bout of nausea in order to get out of there and warn you because I don't like the way Ross is acting, and I don't like the way Moran's acting, either."

"He's not dead."

"Alex…"

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I'm with you. So…he's not dead. And he wants back in Major Case?"

"That's what I'm thinking."

"Well, how about this? Over _my_ dead body, okay?"

He flashed me a smile and then finally let go of my arm and stood up straight.

"That's what I wanted to hear. He might have been your boss once, but…"

"I got it."

And I _did_ have it.

But I didn't know what the hell I was going to do with it.

Ross was alive?

After Bobby and I spent nearly a year undercover trying to avenge his death?

Not to mention the fact that Maas and Logan had both been shot during our efforts to take Hassan down.

And Beemer had been killed…Banta…Stahl…

How much would've gone differently if only we'd known?

"So, you're ready?" he asked me.

"Did Moran tell you to call me?"

"No, but they're not going to sit around in there and discuss this without you present. I'll just tell him that you came up here to update us on the O'Hara case."

"Okay," I said with a nod. I could do that. After all, Bobby and Logan were interrogating a witness at the moment, and even though I wasn't sure what they were going to get out of him, I had a feeling that I could b.s. my way through a quick briefing if Moran called my bluff.

But surely he wouldn't be all that interested in hearing about it right now anyway.

Not nearly as interested as _I_ was to find out the deal with Ross.

"Hey, Chief," Maas said as he opened Moran's door. "Look who I ran in to."

"Come on in," Moran said enthusiastically.

And Maas was right.

Moran looked like he was ready to wet himself over the sudden appearance of Danny Ross.

I stepped into the office as Ross got up from the chair. He smiled at me and held out his hand for me to shake.

"Detective," he greeted. "It's been a long time."

"It's Captain," Maas corrected for me.

I shook Ross' hand and he nodded at me.

"Captain Eames. Why am I not surprised?"

"You might not be, but I am. You were…dead," I said bluntly. "And I'm not saying that because I read about it in the paper. I _saw_ you."

"You saw what they wanted you to see," he said carefully.

"I'm not new, Ross. And I'm not naive," I said guardedly, purposely _not_ calling him captain.

Because he wasn't one anymore, was he? I mean, he's been gone for a year.

He's a civilian.

"I can't explain it," he said. "It's part of my agreement."

"So you were working with…who? ATF? The CIA? Because the FBI sure as hell didn't know what was going on. Or did they?"

It was almost comical how Moran and Maas seemed to have melted into the woodwork while Ross and I stood in the center of the room.

I could tell by the look on his face that he'd expected me to be more…excited or something.

And okay, so it's great that he's alive.

Really, it is.

But for some reason, mostly I was just feeling anger and resentment at having been played.

"It wasn't the FBI," he said after a minute.

"So you were playing one agency against another? Or really, three agencies against each other, since the NYPD was in the dark, too. Unless you knew about this," I finished, looking hard at Moran.

And I swear, if the next word out of his mouth is _yes_, I'm going to vault over his desk and strangle the life out of him.

"I just found out about an hour ago," he answered.

Ross looked at Moran, seemingly surprised by how quickly he answered my question, and then he turned back to me with a look of understanding.

"_You're_ the new captain of Major Case," he stated.

Now it was my turn to look at Moran in surprise.

"You didn't tell him?"

"We hadn't gotten around to that yet. But Danny, surely you expected that. It was at your request that I offered her the promotion."

"I never thought you'd take it," Ross said to me. He looked at me with an inscrutable expression and said, "You left Goren behind."

"I _didn't_ leave him behind," I said defensively. "He's partnered with Logan, and it's working out great. So tell me what happened with you."

"I can't."

"Bullshit."

"Eames," Moran said at the same time Maas said, "Alex."

"What? Goren and I spent a year of our lives undercover trying to get Hassan and make him pay for what he did to _you_...we almost got ourselves killed on several occasions, and I'm just supposed to accept that it was all for nothing?" I said, and by this point, I was shouting. I turned to Maas and added, "You helped us. You were shot _twice_. So was Logan. And it's okay with you that we don't even get an explanation?"

"Detective…" Ross said calmly.

"It's _Captain_!" I yelled. "And I need more from you than _I can't_. Actually, you know what? Save it. We'll call a meeting. One with everyone who put their lives on the line for _you_ after you faked your own death, and then you can tell all of us exactly why it was so vital to keep the truth from people who cared about getting _justice_ for you while you were probably on a damn beach somewhere sunning yourself."

"I see you've taken over Goren's temper," Ross said, and he had the nerve to smile, like there was something funny in all of this.

I stared at him, wondering how much trouble I could possibly get into if I pulled out my gun and killed a man who was supposedly already dead.

"I just don't like being played," I said through gritted teeth.

"I never played you," he said, maybe now grasping how the situation was making me feel. "I _couldn't_ tell anyone. If word got out, then he still might have come after me."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that now, do you?"

"No, because Hassan's dead."

"Exactly. Ask me how he got that way."

"You?"

"Me. Goren. Logan. Maas. And with Moran's support. Everyone here was crusading for you. And today you just stroll in here like it was no big deal…"

"I didn't mean it like that. And I didn't realize…"

"No. You didn't."

"Maybe I should give this a little time to settle," he said. "Chief, I'll call you on Monday."

I glanced over at Moran and found him sitting, almost looking like a cartoon character with his jaw dangling down near the floor.

"Um…sure, Ross. We can talk about options."

"Good to see you again, Stanley," Ross said, and then he turned to me and nodded stiffly. "Captain. I'm sorry to upset the apple cart. I think I'll make a pass by the morgue and see if I can find anyone happy to see me, someone who's willing to get things back to the way they used to be. The way they _should_ be. You forget I had to waste a year of _my_ life pretending to be someone else."

My heart sank at his mention of going to see Liz, so much so that I let the rest of his statement go.

He wanted to win her back?

What was this whole thing going to do to _her_?

And to Logan?

"That's not a good idea," I asserted.

"You might be a captain now, Eames, but you're not mine," he said smartly.

And then he left the office, closing the door behind him.

"Well, that was…not what I expected," Moran said.

But I only barely heard him as I pulled out my phone.

I had to get Liz out of the morgue.

And I didn't want to tell her why over the phone.

"What did you expect, Chief? You know what they went through. And he just waltzes back in here? He looked like he expected a damn parade," Maas was saying as I stood frozen with my phone in my hand.

For some reason, I couldn't think straight. I just kept coming back to the fact that Ross wasn't dead.

I'd looked at his _body_ as it was zipped into a cadaver bag…and yet it was all an elaborate scheme.

My phone buzzed, startling me out of my paralysis.

A text from Bobby.

_**Are you almost done? We need to brief you.**_

He was offering me an out, because otherwise he'd never text me something so vague.

But at least that told me that he was done with his witness, which meant he and Logan could help me with Liz.

I typed out my reply.

_**Call Liz and have her meet you and Logan at Pete's. Urgent - do it now. I'll be there as soon as I can.**_

I put my phone away and found Moran and Maas both looking at me.

"I'm guessing he wants his old job back," I stated.

"I think that's the assumption he's making, yes," Moran admitted.

"Chief…" Maas began.

"Hold on, Stanley. I didn't say he was getting it. I'm just…I'm in shock about this myself. And Eames, I didn't think about this in terms of what his supposed death did to you and the others…I can understand why you're so upset. As the Chief of D's, he could've entrusted me with the information. Or at the very least, with the information that he was working with a second agency last year."

"He kept you in the dark, too," Maas prodded. "He wanted to be the hero and take down Hassan."

"Yeah, well instead, you guys did," Moran replied, looking at me with something akin to pride.

"That's right. Captain Eames has more than earned her position. And with this current case…"

"I know," he said, interrupting Maas' plea on my behalf. "And of course, nothing's going to be done right away. Your detectives need to catch the killer, Eames."

"So…what? Goren and Logan wrap up their case and then you decide whether or not I keep my job?"

"No, I'm not saying that. I'm just saying…I need to think about how this is all going to play out. In the meantime, keep up the good work."

"Yes, sir," I forced myself to say.

I mean, I could understand that Ross' reappearance was going to throw things into a different light, but still…as leery as I'd been initially about taking this job, I want it now.

And I sure as hell wasn't going to step aside for Ross.

"And Eames," Moran added. "Don't think I don't know what you've done for this department. What you continue to do for it."

"Thank you."

I shared a brief look with Maas and then I left Moran's office.

I was shaking with…outrage and indignation.

"Kind of a kick in the teeth, isn't it? You're right, by the way."

I turned around and saw that Denise was watching me.

"I'm sorry?"

"I could hear you through the walls," she explained.

"Oh," I said with a nod. "Well, then I _am_ sorry. I should've shown a little more restraint."

"No, like I said. You're right. After everything you guys went through…well, let's just say you've got my vote."

"Thanks."

"Yeah, well I'm not sure if that counts for anything," she admitted with a smile.

"It does," I said sincerely. "I really appreciate it."

I got onto the elevator and pulled my phone out again to send a text.

_**Did you get Liz?**_

_**She's meeting us there, **_Bobby replied_**.**_

Me:_** Do you know if she left already?**_

The pause was a little longer, and then came the reply.

Bobby:_** Logan just checked. She's almost to Pete's. So are we. You?**_

Me:_** Fifteen minutes.**_

I love that he didn't question my demand for our lunch hour to be spent in a darkened bar.

I also love the fact that Liz had apparently dropped everything to join us simply because I'd said so. Her morgue was flooded with bodies at the moment, and if I hadn't asked her to leave, she probably would've worked through lunch. And dinner.

I drove like a woman possessed over to Pete's, and hurried inside.

"Okay, Cap," Logan said as I slid into the booth next to Bobby and instantly sought out his hand. "You've got us. What's up?"

"Yeah, what'd Maas want?" Bobby asked me.

They all looked at me expectantly, and I suddenly became tongue-tied.

"Alex?" Bobby asked worriedly.

"It's…it's…"

"Do it like a Band-Aid," Liz said encouragingly.

"Okay. Okay," I repeated. And then I took a deep breath and said in a rush, "Um…Ross is alive. He wants his job back. And Liz, he wants you back, too."

**TBC...**


	11. Chapter 11

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Are you okay?"<p>

Logan didn't answer me, but instead kept searching through the bedroom of Erin Lieberman.

We'd come here straight from Pete's, after Alex had dropped the bombshell that had us all in a funk.

"_Um…Ross is alive. He wants his job back. And Liz, he wants you back, too."_

That's what she'd said only moments after arriving at the bar.

It had taken more than a minute for any of us to react.

"_He wants me back_?" Liz finally said, and her voice was bordering on hysterical. "_As if he only lost me because he supposedly died? I mean, I'm glad he's not dead. I see enough of it every day, and I'd never wish it on anyone, but him dying didn't have anything to do with why we're not together."_

Then she looked at Mike and added, "_And him being alive doesn't change anything."_

"_It changes everything," _Logan corrected.

"_How?"_

"_Because. He's…you…"_

"_I broke it off with him because he bullied me into a corner and encouraged me to go against my code of ethics. I know it's my fault that I did, but it doesn't change the fact that he asked me to do it. Hell, he _ordered_ me to do it."_

She looked at me apologetically, clearly still beating herself up for that breach of confidentiality thing, the one that I'd forgiven her for years ago.

"_So don't sit there and act like this means anything at all, as far as _you and I _are_ _concerned_," she continued as she turned to Mike.

She was getting mad, I could tell.

And Logan was getting upset and withdrawn.

And Alex was…livid.

"_What did he say_?" I asked Alex as I squeezed her hand in what I hoped was a comforting gesture.

So she filled us in on the scene in Moran's office.

"_Give Moran a chance to do the right thing_," I told her. "_He will. He stood by us the entire time we were with the Bureau. He's not going to turn on us now."_

"_How can you be so calm about this? Ross treated you the worst of any of us, and yet you still sacrificed everything to find his killer, who we now know didn't exist."_

"_I'm not calm at all,"_ I argued lightly. "_I'm just wondering why I didn't see it."_

"_There's a surprise," _Alex retorted. "_You feel like you should've known."_

"_No,"_ I said with a smile, taking her teasing for what it was. "_I'm just saying…the funeral was all wrong…the situation was so hush-hush…I don't know why I never at least considered the possibility."_

"_So you think it was the CIA?" _Liz asked.

"_He didn't say that, but yeah. He's got tells."_

My Alex.

Blindsided by the reappearance of a year-long dead man and yet she was automatically reading his tells.

"_So it's not like he had a choice_," Liz pointed out. "_About keeping it a secret, I mean."_

"_No," _Alex agreed. "_I'm sure it was a difficult situation_."

Mike scoffed and sat back in his seat.

"_So now we're supposed to feel sorry for him?"_

"_No," _I answered_. _

"_And what's with him saying he wants you back?" _Mike said to Liz.

"_Thank you," _she replied drolly_._

"_No, I mean to Moran. And Alex and Maas. Since when does Ross make personal life declarations in the Chief of D's office?"_

"_That's true."_

He had a good point, and so I picked up his thread.

"_And did he really expect the captain's job of Major Case to be waiting for him after a year? I mean, come on. Even if it wasn't you, Alex, it would be someone. Someone who wouldn't deserve to be pushed aside. He just strolled back into the department as if nothing ever happened."_

"_Well, he's not getting his job back," _Alex stated firmly_. _

"_Of course he's not. The department has never run as smoothly as it does now," _I replied.

_"_Hey, Goren," Logan said to me. He was standing next to Erin's nightstand, and he was going through the drawers.

"You found something?"

"No. I was just wondering…you think he's over there right now?"

"Ross?"

"Yeah. You think he waited for her at the morgue?"

"Maybe. Probably."

He nodded and shifted his focus back to the drawers.

"Why are you so worried about him?" I asked.

"Why am I worried that a former flame has come back from the dead to put the full court press on my girlfriend? Jeez, I don't know, Bobby."

"You told me that she said she was never in love with him."

"Yeah."

"And they'd been apart for a while before he supposedly died."

"Yeah."

"So if she wanted him, wouldn't she have tried for him back then?"

He paused in his search, but still didn't look at me.

"Isn't that kind of what happened in reverse earlier this week? Michelle wanted you back…"

"Sort of, but…no, that was a one-night stand. She dated Ross for a year."

"Off and on. And he cheated on her. Not only that, but she loves you. Did you forget that detail?"

"I…no," he admitted. "But am I being fair to her?"

"By doing what?"

"By not letting her explore the opportunity."

"Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm being serious. What if Joe suddenly turned up not dead? Wouldn't you want Alex to find out if there was still something there between them?"

"Hell, no. I'd be doing everything I could to remind her why she chose me in the first place."

"Even though she…chose you after he was gone?"

I didn't want to examine his question.

Not at all.

Instead, I kept the conversation about him.

"So what are you going to do? Bow out and let Ross win, even if it's not what Liz wants?"

"I just want her to be sure. And how can she be sure if she doesn't even try?"

"I think you're crazy."

"Yeah, well…you're not the first person to tell me that," he said on a sigh. "Believe me, I don't want to. I don't want her within a hundred yards of him. But I also don't want her lying in bed at night, wondering about him and how he might have changed during his year in hiding."

"I guess I might see your point," I said, although I still didn't like it.

I didn't like thinking about his hypothetical Joe question, and I didn't like the thought of Liz with Ross.

She made Logan happy, and I hated seeing him so…depressed and resigned. It was like he expected that once Liz reacquainted herself with Ross, she'd dump _him_.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked.

"I'm just going to tell her that she should talk to him and keep an open mind. Maybe go out for drinks with him or something. I mean, she cared about him at one point. She cried when he died. It has to be impacting her to see that he's alive, probably more so than it's effecting any of us."

"Don't you think you're jumping the gun? You don't even know for sure what he wants."

"Alex thinks so," he reminded me.

I couldn't argue with that.

If that's how she read the situation, then it was as good as Ross saying the words.

"So, that's what _I'm_ going to do about Ross. What are _you_ going to do about him?" Logan continued. "Alex was right. You're being awfully calm."

"I don't think it's hit me yet," I admitted. "And believe me, it really makes me mad how he just showed up in Moran's office like that, expecting to be reinstated. I mean, did he think the world stopped turning while he was gone?"

"Apparently, yes."

"You know what really gets me?"

"There are too many choices," he said, finally showing me a tired smile. "I can't begin to guess which one has you the most pissed off."

"It's that we're the ones who brought him back. We followed the evidence and smoked out the mole and then we killed Hassan. And maybe he didn't know that before, but he knows it now, and we didn't even get a thank you. Nothing. Instead, he's got his sights set on your girlfriend and Alex's office."

"That's because he's a first-class prick who's only ever cared about himself. Think about it, Goren. Think about how it was working for him. Did he ever treat you with any kind of respect? Did he ever step in front of a bus for you? Alex has been in that office for a month, and how many times has she protected her detectives? And I don't just mean you. Obviously, she'd lay down and die for you, but I mean _all_ of her detectives. She could've served up Yuille and Wyatt on a platter during the press conference the other day, but she didn't. She _wouldn't_. You think Ross would've done the same thing? I'll answer that one for you. No way in hell."

I was searching through Erin's desk drawers while Logan was talking, and I came across something interesting.

"Look at this, Logan."

He walked over to me and I handed him a day planner, open to the month of February.

"A teenager who handwrites her calendar. That's unusual," he commented as he read the notation that I was pointing at, and then he looked up at me with interest and said, "Last Wednesday she had a date."

"Uh huh. J.D. I wonder if that's what he goes by as his first name, or if it's his first and last initials."

"Could be both."

"Could be. Any other dates with J.D.?"

Together we flipped back to January and read over the entries.

"No. So…new guy. Where would she have met him?" I posed as we turned back to February.

"Hey, Monday night. Movies with S."

"Sally O'Hara," I mused. "So the girls went to the movies together two days before Erin was killed."

"And a week before Sally was killed," he added. "Coincidence?"

"We need to pull her financials and see if we can get a charge for the movie tickets. Sally didn't have anything on hers, but maybe Erin paid."

"Uh huh," he agreed. "Then we can take their pictures to the theater and see if anyone remembers them."

I bagged the day planner and then we continued our search.

It was obvious that the apartment wasn't the site of the murder, so we still didn't know where she'd been killed. We didn't know where _any_ of the girls were killed because we'd determined that none of the dump sites had enough blood.

I heard Logan's phone buzz, and then I watched him as he pulled it out and read the text. I thought it might be from Liz, and once I saw his smile, I was sure that it was.

_Good for her for sending him something reassuring_, I thought.

He glanced up at me and I raised my eyebrow at him while he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

"Nothing," he said casually. "She um…she says she loves me."

"Of course she does. You might want to rethink your brilliant plan."

"We'll see," he replied.

I opened another desk drawer while Logan walked over to the dresser. He opened the top drawer and then paused.

"What is it?"

"A photo of Erin and Sally," he answered as he pulled it from the drawer. He looked at it for a moment, and then held it up to the light. "I think maybe Sally came here. After Erin disappeared."

"Why?" I asked.

He turned the photo to me and said, "Tear stains. Look, the picture was wet in several places and then dried."

"So she came here, looking for her friend…"

"Or a clue as to where her friend might have gone."

"Uh huh. She found the picture, she was upset…"

For some reason, the image of Sally sitting in Erin's room, crying while staring at a photo of the two of them together…it really got to me.

I got up from the desk and threw myself into the search in an effort to shake the feeling.

"Hey, Logan," I called out after I opened the closet door and saw a pile of dirty laundry on the floor.

"Yeah?"

"That picture that Senator O'Hara gave us of his daughter. Wasn't she wearing these pants?" I asked as I held up a pair of dark blue jeans with an embroidered pattern along the pockets.

"Yeah," he agreed. He bagged the tear-stained photo and then joined me at the closet.

"So did Erin borrow them, or did Sally stay here for longer than to just do a search?" I posed as I went through the pockets.

"Good question," he replied.

In the back pocket, I came across something, so I pulled it out.

It was a business card.

An NYPD one, and on it was the name Detective Michelle Coleman.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>I made it through the lunch hour on autopilot.<p>

I couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that Danny was alive, and even more troubling, I couldn't understand why Mike was so sure that it spelled disaster for the two of us.

So what if Danny's not dead?

I mean, _good_, he's not dead.

That's great.

Great for his boys, and for the people who love him.

I'm just not one of those people.

So while I'm thrilled to death that he's one less person in the book of people I know who've crossed to the other side, it doesn't change anything about my relationship with Mike.

The really strange thing is that Alex said Danny wanted me back.

Where'd he get that idea from?

He wasn't worried about me before, even when we were dating, so why the sudden change of heart?

At the end of our lunch hour, I kissed Mike goodbye – a purposeful, emotional kiss meant to reassure him – and then I went back to the morgue.

I knew that at some point, Danny would likely stop by.

But I wasn't expecting him to be lurking in the hallway waiting for me.

"You look even more beautiful than I remembered."

I stopped in my tracks and took in the sight of him.

He looked exactly as I remembered him.

Except maybe a little older…a little more gray in his hair.

"And you're not surprised to see me. I guess Eames let the cat out of the bag. Are you friends with her now or something?"

"It's Captain Eames," I said, his seemingly intentional avoidance of using her title serving to annoy me. "And yes, she and I are friends."

"You're not the least bit happy to see me? To know that I'm alive?"

"Knowing that a year ago would've been nice," I said, and then I let out a sigh and took a step closer to him. "But yes, I'm happy to see you. I'm glad you're okay."

At my words, he approached me and then held out his arms, and I had to give him a hug.

And I mean _had_ to because like I said…I _was_ glad that to see that he's alive.

"I don't get it, though," I admitted as I stepped back from him, wanting to put distance between us again.

"Don't get what?"

"I _saw_ you. I was there that night."

"I warned them you'd be the hardest to fool," he said with a wry smile. Then he moved closer to me, and to my surprise, he reached out his hand and touched my cheek. "I heard that you cried for me."

"Cried?" I repeated incredulously. "You were shot down in cold blood. Or at least, that's what we thought. Of _course_ I cried."

I backed up again, to escape his touch, and he looked at me curiously.

"You know, I've been gone for a year. And do you know what I thought about the whole time? Getting back to you."

"But…why? We weren't together anymore."

"I had time to think, Liz. About all of the mistakes I made when I was with you, and I realized that you're the best thing that ever happened to me. And now I'm back. And I want you back. I'll make it right this time, I promise."

"It's too late," I said, moving past him so that I could go into the autopsy suite.

"Don't say that," he said as he followed me inside. "Liz…"

I turned around to hit the light switch and he was right there and then suddenly he was kissing me.

I was so shocked that it took me a second or two to react, but then I brought my hands up to his chest and shoved him away.

"Danny…you don't get it. It's too late. I'm with someone now."

"Oh, I get it. You need time to think about it, and to explain the situation to him," he said easily. "I understand. I mean, I've been gone a long time, and you're a beautiful woman…."

"Stop saying that!" I interrupted, raising my voice and then quickly dropping it again when an assistant came into the autopsy suite through the side door. "There's nothing to explain. I'm happy with my life. I don't want to change it."

"You shouldn't settle for second best. You and me…we were good together, Liz."

"No, we weren't," I said roughly, and then I turned around and hoped that if I ignored him long enough, he'd go away.

Where had this attitude come from?

I mean, he was always a little condescending, but now he had this seriously overblown ego, like he just couldn't fathom why I wouldn't want to be with him.

Well, I could.

Two words.

Mike Logan.

No, actually it's not even about Mike. I wouldn't want to get back with Danny anyway. I could never trust him, and he always made me feel like I should be grateful to be with him.

Mike has shown me that it doesn't have to be like that.

"Looks like you're pretty busy down here," he commented as I gloved up and went back to work.

"Some things never change."

"So, Eames told me that she was partly responsible for Hassan," he stated, his tone suggesting that he didn't really believe it. "Something about her and Goren going undercover?"

I dropped my hands down to the table and stared at him hard.

"You know, you make it really hard for people to like you."

"What? Why?"

"You don't even care what everyone else went through. I understand that you've probably had a difficult year. You had to let everyone who loves you think that you're dead…you had to live in a new city, probably take on a new name…"

"I can't talk about it."

"I'm not asking you to!" I yelled in annoyance. "All I'm saying is that it's not all about you, okay? Your former detectives, good hard-working people who you routinely treated like crap, put their lives on hold for you. And you don't even care enough about that to say _thank you_…or _gee, I didn't consider what you did for me_…or even congratulate Alex for the fact that she's become the new star of the NYPD. Come on, Danny, don't you care about these people at all?"

"I care about _you_. And I'll tell them thank you. I just…today was strange, and Eames got so ticked, and…"

"And you got mad because she didn't throw her arms around you and give you the keys to the captain's office," I finished for him.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, so I went back to searching the body for trace evidence.

I was making a third pass on the victims in Bobby and Mike's case, in hopes of finding…something.

"It didn't occur to me that she was the captain of Major Case," he said after a minute.

"You don't watch the news?"

"Normally, yes, but I haven't recently. The past few days have been kind of busy, what with me being released back into the wild and all," he said jokingly. "Why?"

"She's been doing daily press conferences. She's pretty damn good, too, so you might want to beef up your resume because I'm not sure if Major Case has an opening."

"Hey," he said softly. "I understand if she's your friend that you want to protect her…"

"She _is_ my friend. And it's not only about protection. It's just a fact. She's the best captain that department has seen since…Deakins, probably."

"Thank you," he said sardonically. "I appreciate that. You know, I never thought I'd have to work so hard to win you over."

"You thought I'd just be down here in my cave, thrilled that you decided you want to try to win my love, even though when we dated before you couldn't keep your pants zipped or your ego checked at the door?"

"Don't hold back, Liz. Say what you mean."

"Look, I'm not trying to pull punches. I'm just trying to be honest."

"One of your finer qualities."

"And the truth is that I'm in love with someone, and we're in a committed relationship."

"Committed? Like you're going to get married?"

"No, but we might as well be."

He held my gaze and nodded thoughtfully.

"Okay. Can I ask who? Is it someone I know?"

"It's Mike Logan."

I'm not sure what I expected, but laughter wasn't it.

"I see you haven't lost your sense of humor," he managed to say. "You almost had me there, Liz. Mike Logan…that's classic."

"I'm serious."

"Uh huh," he replied, still chuckling as he walked around the table to where I stood. He leaned in close and said, "I didn't know you were the type to play hard to get, but I'm game."

He brought his lips close to mine, as though he was going to kiss me again, and I brought my hand, the one holding the scalpel, up in between us.

"Uh uh," I said. "It's not a joke. And it's not a game. And you really need to take a step back."

He held his hands up in supplication and moved back a few feet.

"Mike Logan," he said as he shook his head. "Really? Did I hurt you so badly that you had to settle for someone like him? Talk about your cheating, self-centered…"

"Get out," I said forcefully.

"What?"

"Out. Now. I mean it."

"Liz…"

"You're burning all your bridges, Danny. Behind you…in front of you…keep it up and you might end up wishing you were back in witness protection."

"Because I insulted your boyfriend?" he asked mockingly.

"Because you're not the head dick around here anymore. And things aren't run like they used to be. Right now the name of the game is respect and loyalty and you haven't shown that you even know what those words mean, much less know how to exhibit the qualities. If you think you're going to slide back into the NYPD, you better rethink your plan of attack, because this entitled bullshit you've been playing today isn't working."

He stood there, staring at me for a long moment, and then he smiled.

"I really like your spunk, Liz. And I get your point. Maybe I've been a little too pushy."

"That's one word for it."

"And you're dating Logan."

"I am, yes."

"Okay, well…good for you. Even better for him."

He reached out and touched my cheek again and said, "I'll be seeing you soon. You really do look gorgeous."

I couldn't resist another jab after his derogatory remarks about Mike, so I put on a fake smile and said, "Thanks - great sex does that to a woman."

His smile faded quickly, and he dropped his hand and turned to leave.

"Danny," I called out, feeling a little guilty about this less-than-successful reunion. "You just need to ease up and let people get used to the idea that you're back, okay?"

"Even you?"

"We can be friends," I agreed. "If you rethink your steamrolling attitude. But I'm friends with Captain Eames first. And Detective Goren."

"Goren, too?"

"Of course. He and Mike are partners. They're best friends."

He rolled his eyes and looked at me with a pained expression.

"And," I added. "Goren stood up for you, he and Eames both. You need to pull the case file on Hassan. I think it'll be an eye-opening bit of bedtime reading for you. You have no idea what they sacrificed for you. Mike, too. And Captain Maas. They all went to bat for you, and let's be honest…you didn't really give Goren a reason to want to do that, did you? I mean, none of them, but especially him."

He looked as though maybe my words were sinking in with him and then he said goodbye.

I let out a long breath after he left, grateful to be alone again.

I was practically shaking.

I pulled out my phone and sent Mike a text.

_**I LOVE YOU**_.

I figured that was really all that needed to be said right now.

He knew I'd be talking with Danny, but I didn't need to get into details.

Not just yet anyway.

He's working, and I'm working, so…yeah.

I also wasn't going to tell him about that kiss just yet, either. I mean, it _had_ been a surprise, and it'd been mostly innocent, but it certainly wasn't the kind of thing I was going to mention in a text.

I really didn't want to mention it at all because I had visions of Mike reinjuring his hand by plastering it against Danny's face.

But I had to tell him because I wasn't going to keep secrets from him.

My phone buzzed just as I started to glove up again.

I expected it to be a reply from Mike, but it was actually a call from Alex.

"I'm fine," I said when I answered.

"He was there?"

"Come and gone."

"And?"

"Can we talk about it tonight?"

"Yeah. But you're okay?"

"Mostly, yeah."

"Okay, good, because this isn't just a social call."

"Don't tell me it's another young girl."

"Um…"

I sighed heavily and said, "Okay, where?"

"This one's back at Corlears."

"A repeat dump site?" I asked in surprise.

"And another daylighter. I sure would like to get ahead of this guy."

"Have you called Goren and Logan?"

"Uh huh. They're leaving SoHo now, so they'll meet you there."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Tell me, Captain…are you in the habit of torturing your detectives?"<p>

"You're going to need to clarify that one. Torturing?"

"By being so incredibly sexy that concentrating is nearly impossible."

Alex laughed while I simultaneously attacked her throat and unbuttoned her blouse.

"Just one detective in particular," she answered in a husky voice.

"Good answer."

"I'm getting good at giving good answers," she replied. "And you're…very good at what you do, too."

By this point, I'd pulled off her blouse and I'd started moving my mouth downward, kissing a trail over her exposed skin.

It was late, pushing midnight, but we just got home a few minutes ago.

The discovery of a sixth victim had brought an increased amount of pressure on Logan and me to come up with a suspect, so we spent all evening at 1PP scouring through the histories of our known victims.

Alex had stayed late, too, and after she got a handle on her own responsibilities, she'd come out into the squad room and pulled up a chair next to our desks.

"_Where are we?"_ she'd asked.

"_The deeper we dig, the more the victims seem random,"_ I admitted in frustration. _"We know that two sets of two girls knew each other, but that's it. There's no connection to the others, and since we still don't have names on numbers five and six, it's nearly impossible to determine any kind of pattern beyond the one-three, two-four theory."_

"_Which would indicate that five knew Sally and Erin, right?"_

"_And six knew Kaleigh and Samantha,"_ Logan said with a nod. "_But we haven't been able to find anyone missing in their lives, so to speak."_

"_So even if it was someone they knew, it was probably only as a casual acquaintance."_

"_Right. Like Kaleigh and Samantha. Their paths crossed at the soup kitchen."_

"_Have you pulled the volunteer logs to see who else might have worked there at the same time they did?"_

"_We've asked for it_," I said. "_We don't have it yet."_

"_If they don't give it up tomorrow morning, let me know."_

"_Are you going to put on the pressure, Cap?"_ Logan teased.

"_Do you want the log or not_?" she asked him with a grin. "_Oh, and tell me the deal on Detective Coleman."_

Logan looked at her skeptically until she added, _"The business card in the victim's pants. Not…you know…you and her."_

"_Well, for the record, there's no me and her,"_ he said quickly. "_Eight hours of time spent while highly intoxicated doesn't count as…anything."_

"_Sally went to see Coleman on Saturday,"_ I jumped in since Logan had gotten off track.

"_And she didn't deem that important enough to tell you?"_

"_Trust me. We let her know she screwed up,"_ Logan replied.

"_Sally went to see her…why?"_

"_Because her friend was missing."_

"_Wait, so Sally reported Erin missing? Then why did we have to wait to hear from Albert the perv to get an ID?"_

"_Coleman never took the report,"_ I explained. "_She convinced Sally that it was probably nothing, and that if Erin wasn't back by Monday, she should come and see her, and then they'd file the paperwork."_

"_Only by Monday, Sally was dead_," Logan added.

"_Oh, that's great,"_ Alex said smartly, sitting back in her chair and shaking her head. "_So a victim reached out to the cops and no one helped her. I can't wait until Channel 7 gets a hold of that one."_

"_I don't know that it would've made a difference," _I said. "_Even if the report was taken, and they were able to ID Erin from that information, it probably wouldn't have stopped Sally from being killed."_

"_He's right, Boss,"_ Logan added. "_And the fact that Sally didn't mention anything about feeling in danger herself suggests that these girls aren't stalked beforehand."_

"_The killer is just snagging them off the streets without warning,"_ she stated.

"_Uh huh. And Liz says the time span between pre-mortem bruising and TOD isn't long…maybe a couple of hours at the most. I don't think it's about torture, and it's definitely not about sex. None of the girls were raped."_

"_Which leaves us with what? A statement of some kind?"_

"_Or killing for the fun of it. If it's two guys, maybe they're in some kind of sick one-upmanship."_

"_And they're accelerating their timeline,"_ Alex pointed out. "_We've had four in four days."_

"_Maybe they've brought another competitor into the mix."_

"_Or maybe they're just feeling invincible. Maybe we've already looked past them,"_ I suggested. "_If it's someone we interviewed and now they think they're in the clear…"_

"_So re-interview,"_ Alex directed. "_Maybe you need some help on this, someone to do some of the leg work."_

Logan and I glanced at each other, neither of us thrilled with the prospect of outside assistance.

"_Give us a couple more days,"_ Logan bargained. "_We'll get it_."

She looked hesitant for a moment, and then she nodded her head.

"_I can give you through the weekend. After that, I'm going to have to bring in more help._

We both quickly agreed, appreciating the courtesy she was offering and knowing that if we didn't make significant progress, it would be _her_ head on the block.

"_Have you heard any more from Ross_?" I asked after another moment.

"_No,"_ she answered. "_What did Liz have to say?"_

"_You called it_," Logan said, his voice full of venom. "_He went after her."_

"_And I'm sure she deftly and efficiently rebuffed his advances,"_ Alex said with the beginnings of a smile. "_Mike, you know you don't have anything to worry about."_

"_Just like you don't have anything to worry about_," he replied. _"And yet you still _are_ worried, I'm sure." _

"_What happens with my job is beyond my control. What happens with you and Liz…that's between the two of you. It's different."_

"_I'm going to tell her to go on a date with him," _he said suddenly, and then he looked at Alex quickly as though he wanted to gauge her reaction.

I could've told him what it would be, and she didn't disappoint me.

"_Have you completely lost your mind?"_ she asked, her voice sounding loud in the mostly-empty squad room.

"_No," _he said defensively. "_But I need her to be sure."_

"_She is sure."_

"_How can she be? He just got back. I don't want her wondering…"_

"_Yeah, okay. Sure, Mike. You _tell_ Liz to go on a date with Ross. Just let me be in the room when you do it, okay? Because then I won't have to wonder how you ended up back on light duty."_

"_Alright, so I'm not going to tell her. But I'm going to suggest it. I don't want her to feel like she's stuck with me."_

Alex sighed and shook her head and then looked at me for help.

_"What is it with you guys?"_ she asked rhetorically, then she turned back to Logan. _"Have you ever known Liz not to speak her mind?"_

_"Well…no."_

_"Then why would now be any different? You're trying to play the martyr, and in the process you're discrediting her feelings for you. If I was her, it would just piss me off._

We'd let the topic drop and then the three of us spent a few more hours going through the latest missing persons reports, in addition to everything we could find on the personal lives of our four known victims, and then we'd called it quits and headed for home.

"You know, what if it's some kind of online thing?" I asked suddenly.

Admittedly, my timing was bad since I was presently dragging Alex's underwear down her legs, but for some reason, the thought had popped into my head.

"Some kind of…what?" she asked breathlessly, and then she looked down at me and rolled her eyes. "Oh my God, Bobby, are you thinking about the case?"

"I…yeah. I'm sorry."

I forced the revelation from my mind and instead redoubled my efforts at making her feel good, but she sat up in the bed and said, "Go ahead."

"No, Alex, it's…"

"It's on your mind. Tell me."

So I moved up beside her and pulled her into my arms and then I began absently stroking her skin as I told her my theory.

"What if the killers met each other online? You know, there's a history of killers in the past wanting to impress each other, and there are communities for everything these days…what if one plays to the fantasy of murder, and some of its participants are taking it a step further?"

"So then they have something to blog about, only theirs is the best because it's real?"

I love the deftness of her mind. Even though I'd had her halfway to the promised land, she was still able to follow my logic.

"It might explain the quicker timetable."

"Because more people are joining in the fray," she said thoughtfully. "Wow, I sure would love for you to be wrong about this one. If we can't connect the dots…"

"But maybe we can, if we can find the community."

"Okay, so…we need to get the techies on it."

"First thing in the morning," I agreed.

"Which means you have eight hours to make it up to me," she said as she turned in my arms and brought her lips to mine.

I raised my eyebrow and looked at her questioningly.

"I mean, you've got me thinking that I'm not sexy enough to keep your attention," she explained, her tone slightly teasing, slightly challenging.

"You know that's not true. I was just telling you a few minutes ago how hard it is for me to concentrate when you're around."

"Well, you didn't get specific, Detective," she said with a smile as she pushed me onto my back and then moved on top of me. "How hard is it?"

I spent the next however long proving to her just how hard it can be, and I'm happy to say that the case never once entered my mind.

But after we finished and we were settled in the bed for the night, my mind began to wander back over the day.

"I can't believe Ross isn't dead," I said, my voice a near-whisper in the darkness.

"I know. Even though Maas told me ahead of time, when I walked into Moran's office and saw him sitting there…it was so surreal."

"Maas had your back," I stated. "I like him more and more every day."

"He was afraid I'd defer to Ross, since he used to be my boss. But you know…I don't get why Ross was so surprised to see that I was the captain. I mean, supposedly he made Moran promise that he'd move me up."

"Yeah, when _he_ moved up. Maybe he figured everything had come to a screeching halt when he died his fake death."

"Well, he also mentioned that he didn't think I'd leave you behind," she said quietly. "You don't think that, do you? That I left you behind?"

"Don't let him get in your head. You know I don't think that. We talked about this last summer, out on the pier, remember?"

"I remember," she said on a sigh as she snuggled even closer to me. "I just…he got me with that one. I guess he knows where my buttons are, even now."

"You know, I hate to say it, but…I'm not glad that he's back. Whether it's related or not, look how much better our lives have been since he's been gone. Of course, I think that, and then I feel guilty because what's the alternative? That he's really dead? What kind of person does it make me to wish another person back into his grave?"

"There's nothing wrong with having mixed emotions about it. The last year of our lives happened like it did because he was dead. Without that event, where would we be?"

"I'd like to think we'd still be right here."

"Me, too, but would we? Or did living together undercover push us to be honest with each other? I mean, I know it did, but would we have still reached that breaking point if we were only just working together?"

"So I'm supposed to thank him for faking his death?"

"No. We're just supposed to…roll with what life throws at us. And don't feel bad for whatever you feel about him being back. They're your emotions, and it's your right to feel them. And trust me, I'm not going to feel sorry for him when I keep my job and send him to the unemployment line."

"That's my girl," I said as I started running my fingers through her hair.

"You think Logan's going to be okay with all of this?"

"Right now, I don't think he knows if he's coming or going. I'm just hoping Liz straightens him out tonight."

"Has it effected his work?"

"No. He's still as sharp as ever," I answered immediately. And then his words from earlier today came back to take residence in my mind.

"What is it?" she asked.

"What is what?"

"I could feel you tense up, as though you're thinking about something you'd rather not think about."

"Logan and I were talking earlier…he was explaining why he wants Liz to explore her options with Ross."

"Which is crazy, by the way."

"Maybe yes, maybe no."

"You think she should go out with him?"

"I can understand why Logan wants her to maybe spend some time with him. He's worried that she's wondering how he might have changed, and what he's like now. If there's any question in her mind, then it might create a rift between the two of them."

"I don't know…I say if she loves Mike, and I know she does, then it doesn't matter if Casanova himself strolls into town and asks her on a date."

"So…" I began hesitantly.

"Ask," she encouraged, clearly knowing I still hadn't gotten around to the thought that had made me anxious.

"If Joe hadn't died…"

"Would I still be with you now?" she asked in surprise. "Bobby, please tell me you know the answer to that one."

"I…think I do, yeah."

"Do you know what might have been different if he hadn't died?"

I shrugged, even though we were in darkness, and waited for her to continue.

"You and I might have gotten together sooner because the idea of dating another cop wouldn't have been so scary for me."

"So you're saying…"

"I'm saying I'd be getting alimony checks and we'd be three or four years into our relationship instead of not quite one. Other than that, nothing would be different."

"Okay. And what if…"

"What if he was to suddenly show up, having been in the witness protection program for the past decade?" she finished for me, and then she sighed heavily. "You know, I'm not sure if you and Logan being partners is such a good idea. Professionally, there's no one better for you, but if his personal insecurities are going to start igniting yours…"

"It's a valid question. And you're wrong, by the way."

"It's not. And how so?"

"It is," I argued lightly. "And because professionally, there _is_ someone better for me. You. And I can't blame him for feeling insecure right now. Other than her ex, Ross was probably the longest relationship of Liz's adult life, so it stands to reason that he's feeling a little bit like he's walking through quick sand."

"And you always like to empathize with the plight of others, don't you?"

"He's not others. He's Logan."

"I know," she agreed with understanding, and then she reached up and kissed me slowly. "If Joe came back into our lives, yes, I'd probably want to have a conversation with him. But only out of curiosity, not out of any kind of interest. It's just you, Bobby. You're the only one I'll ever want again. If we could go public without losing our jobs, I'd sell my apartment, I'd marry you before the ink could dry on our license, and I'd be Alex Goren for the rest of my life."

A rush of warmth flooded through me at her declaration, and even though I'd thought moments ago that I couldn't possibly ever love her more, I suddenly do.

_She'd want to marry me?_

"Wait a minute," I said, unable to resist teasing her because my mood had immediately lightened. "Who said anything about us getting married? I thought we were just together for the great sex."

She laughed and then kissed me again, this time putting even more passion into it and I wrapped my arms around her and rolled us over so that she was stretched out on top of me.

And while she kissed me, I had the craziest idea.

The scariest, most wonderful crazy idea.

"So," I said when she eased her lips away from mine. She kept her gaze locked on mine and as I looked into her eyes, I almost forgot was I was going to say.

But not really.

"If Maas gets his wish…" I continued.

"For the abolishment of the ban on inter-departmental relationships?"

"Uh huh. That one. If Moran signs off on it…" I said, and then I trailed off and kissed her again, thinking that maybe I should've practiced this first.

But then I decided that it didn't matter.

"If that happens," I continued. "Alex, will you marry me?"

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"He did <em>what<em>?"

"It's okay. I got the point across."

"No, it's not okay. It's _so_ far from okay…"

"Mike…"

I held up my hand, stalling whatever she might have been planning to say, and then I resumed pacing around the kitchen.

That mother fucker had kissed her.

Just the idea was making me crazy.

I've always known that I'm the jealous type, so that feeling wasn't anything new, and yet this overwhelming urge to make Ross' false death a reality _was_ different than my normal response to jealousy.

I used to react by wanting to inflict the same emotional pain upon the person who'd done it to me.

A girlfriend was flirting with a cute guy in the bar?

Fine.

I'd flirt with a cute girl.

A date thought it would be interesting to see my response to her complimenting a former boyfriend?

No problem.

I'd tout the attributes of a former girlfriend.

Because before, jealousy was just an emotion.

Just an initiator of rivalry, something that brought out the competitor in me.

Now…with Liz…apparently it brings out my homicidal tendencies.

"Was it before or after you told him about me?" I asked as I struggled to get my temper under control.

"Before. He mentioned wanting to make things right between us or something like that, and I told him it was too late."

"And then he just kissed you."

"Yeah, but Mike…"

I resumed my pacing and even knowing that I was acting like a jerk, I couldn't seem to stop myself.

"Hey," she said forcefully as she stepped in front of me, blocking my path. "Are you really going to let him ruin our time together? It's almost midnight and I've barely seen you all day. I mean, I've _seen_ you, but…"

"I think you should go out with him," I interrupted.

"What?"

Apparently now it was her turn to yell.

"Why in the world would I want to go out with him?" she continued. "And why would you even say something like that? If you're breaking up with me, then just do it. You don't need to try to foist me off on the next available suitor."

"Breaking up with you? Why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know. Why would you tell me to go out with someone else?"

"Because I don't want you to wonder what you could've had with him!"

"I don't! Are you wondering what you could've had with Michelle?"

"What? No!"

"Because you know, it's almost the same damn thing, and I've got to tell you…it really pisses me off that you'd even suggest it."

So we stood there, squaring off with each other in the kitchen, each of us breathing heavily from our emotional outbursts, and I finally realized the ridiculousness of my suggestion.

"Oh my God, Liz…I'm sorry," I said at last.

I dropped my gaze to the floor, all the wind having disappeared from my sails.

"I didn't know you had such a jealous streak in you," she said quietly.

She reached out and ran her fingers down the front of my tie and I let my eyes track their progress.

"I didn't either. Not like this."

She moved her touch from the tie to my waist, grabbing on to one of the belt loops and then bringing up her other hand to mirror the action.

"So this is new?"

"Everything about what we have is new for me," I admitted, finally bringing my eyes up to hers. "And the thought of losing you…it scares me to death."

"And yet you wanted to shove me at another man," she pointed out with barely-masked amusement.

"Yeah, Alex said that would piss you off."

"Next time, listen to Alex. I don't need to go on a date with Danny to know that I love you. I already know that. I thought you already knew it, too."

"I _do_," I said as I wrapped my arms around her. "But then I kept thinking about what _you_ might be thinking…I don't want you to have regrets."

"The only one I'd have is if I let Danny coming back come in between us," she stated with practicality. "I don't want him. I want you."

"Well, since you brought up Michelle, let me say for the record that I don't want _her_. I want _you_."

"Then why are we still standing here, fully clothed and arguing?"

"Because I'm an idiot," I said. "Thinking about him kissing you…"

"Don't think about it. I'm not," she interrupted. And then she pulled me closer and moved her hands up to my face. "Because he's got absolutely nothing on you."

"You know I'm going to have to say something to him, though, right?" I said as I stepped into her, backing her up until she was against the refrigerator door.

"I had a feeling," she replied with a sarcastic smile. "I…"

But I didn't let her finish her sentence.

Because I just had to kiss her.

And one kiss gave way to another, and another, and then the next thing I knew, we'd shed our clothes and I was pushing into her as I held her against the stainless steel door of the sturdy appliance.

And maybe my enthusiasm was fueled by jealousy, driven by my need to show her how much I love her and how good I can make her feel.

So maybe in a backwards way, I should thank Ross for our earth-shattering experience that left a dent in her refrigerator door.

Wouldn't _that_ make for an interesting conversation?

_By the way, Liz told me you kissed her…thanks for making me a little jealous because I worked out my feelings of territoriality by making love to her in the kitchen. Oh, and then in the hallway. And then again in the bed…_

Telling him that might even be better than hitting him.

And I might not have the energy to walk tomorrow, but still…it was worth it.

But fortunately for him, he stayed away on Friday morning.

And fortunately for me, I was walking just fine.

I felt the ridiculous urge to brag about my three-peat performance, but instead I just found myself smiling most of the morning.

Bobby and I chased down leads until noon, and then we sat down with Alex in her office to bring her up to speed before her afternoon briefing.

"Five and six are still unidentified," Bobby began. "But Sarah's got the photos ready for you to disclose this afternoon."

"Any word from the techies on your online community theory?"

"Nothing so far, but it's not for lack of material. You wouldn't believe the stuff out there."

"I'm sure I would," she replied.

"Any kind of sicko looking for any kind of sicko," I elaborated. "It's out there."

"I was thinking about that, though," she said. "Wasn't the rope from number one used as the murder weapon for number four? That's an inconsistency to your theory."

"Yes," Bobby agreed. "But the rope type is the only thing that matches, not necessarily the specific piece itself. It's a common nylon rope."

"And maybe Erin's killer talked about it."

"Online," she said with a nod. "And then another killer used the same type of thing."

"It's the technological-age version of a gang," Bobby said.

"Okay, well…pros and cons to me going public with the computer theory."

"It would give us hundreds of thousands of techies looking to be the hero," I posed. "Every hacker with a laptop will be searching for the forum."

"And every wannabe killer might be looking for it, too," Bobby stated. "It's risky."

"We've got six bodies in eight days. You think it'll get worse?" Alex asked.

"It's possible," I said.

"And it's possible it'll give us the break we need," Bobby countered.

Alex sat back in her chair and looked back and forth between us.

"What's your gut say?" she asked at last.

"Make the announcement," we both said.

We talked for a few more minutes, and then Bobby left the office to grab us some sandwiches from the vending machine.

"Everything okay with you and Liz?" Alex asked me once we were alone.

"Yeah. Why, what did she say?"

"I haven't talked to her. But you shouldn't have to ask, if everything's fine."

"No, it is," I said confidently. "I…worked out my…insecurities in a…very…satisfying manner."

"Uh huh," she said with a grin. "I'm sure you did. I guess you didn't tell her your brilliant idea about sending her on a date."

"Oh, no. I did."

"And you're not bruised or bleeding. I'm amazed by her restraint."

"She'd never hurt me," I said playfully.

Alex's expression went serious and she nodded at me meaningfully.

"No. She wouldn't. Old loves are usually old loves for a reason. And just because one's made up his mind that he'd rather be back in the picture doesn't make it so."

"Yeah, I know. I got it. It just messed with my head. And I still haven't seen him yet…that's probably going to mess with me again."

"Just remind yourself that you're the one in her bed at night."

"Okay, so…tuna," Bobby announced as he came back in the office. "Something that looks like it used to be tuna. And…I'm not sure."

"I'll go with the mystery meat," I offered, and he tossed me a plastic container. I ripped off the cellophane and then went to work shoveling in the tasteless sandwich. "So, any interesting lunch time gossip?"

"Well, Maas has a date tonight," Alex said with a smile.

"Really? Not Lisa?"

"Nope. He says he broke it off with her for good. And apparently he met some lawyer the other night and they hit it off."

"Good for Stanley," Bobby said. "So you talked to him today?"

"Just a little while ago," she replied. "Ross has made himself scarce today, but Moran's been tossing out ideas for what to do with him."

"I can think of a few," I posed.

"I'm sure you can," Bobby said with a grin. "I've got an idea or two myself."

"Uh huh. I think Moran's just hoping to have a plan in place to suggest to Zaring on Monday. There's going to be some kind of meeting between the three of them."

"They didn't invite Maas to the meeting? That's not a good sign."

"No," Alex agreed. "And Stanley's a little ticked about that, but Moran assured him that he has his back."

"And who's got yours?" Bobby asked.

"You two," she answered. "And Stanley. And Moran. Everyone's in agreement that they don't want Ross in this office."

"What about Zaring?"

"Him, I don't know. We'll have to wait and see, I guess."

"So did Stanley say anything about…um…you know," Bobby asked vaguely.

"What?" I questioned.

"Oh, the…thing?" Alex said, still looking only at Bobby. Then she smiled at him and dropped her eyes briefly before saying, "It's on the table. But with this Ross issue, it may get postponed a week or two."

"What?" I asked again. "You know, just tell me to leave if you want to talk. Otherwise, spell it out for the beginners."

"Stanley outlined a new set of departmental guidelines," Alex explained.

"Yeah, he's trying to make it so that it's okay for partners to date. I know about that. That still doesn't help you guys, though, does it? It's still a superior officer kind of thing."

"He's worded it in such a way that if Moran approves it, we're in the clear."

"Really? That's…great. Does Maas think he'll sign it?"

"We don't know," Bobby answered, and there was just something in the air that had me looking back and forth between the two of them, and feeling like a spectator.

I mean, a lot of times I feel like that around them, but there was an underlying excitement that seemed excessive, considering they didn't even know whether or not Moran would do it.

"But?" I encouraged.

"Um…last night, Bobby…" Alex began, and then she trailed off.

"Oh, hey, I don't need to know what the two of you did last night," I said quickly. And then because I couldn't help myself, I looked at Bobby and said, "Although if you topped three times, I'm going to have to ask you what kind of vitamins you take."

"Not that!" Alex said loudly, and then she started laughing. "Oh my God…there is such a thing as too much information, you know."

"I thought that's what you were talking about," I said unrepentantly. "Sorry."

"Uh huh," Bobby remarked with a nod. "You just wanted to make sure we heard about your studly performance."

"Okay, guilty as charged. So what is it that Bobby did last night, if you're not talking about _that_."

"Oh, I did that, too," he corrected quickly.

"Bobby…"

"Sorry," he said with a shrug at Alex.

She rolled her eyes, but looked anything but upset.

"He asked me to marry him," she told me, and while she said the words, she was looking at him, and I swear I could feel the heat from their stare even though I was five feet away.

"You did…what?"

"If Moran signs the changes," Bobby clarified. "We'll wait a month or two, and then we're getting married."

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>As I crossed the squad room, I was surprised that I didn't recognize anyone.<p>

And no one paid me any mind.

How could that be?

It's only been a year.

Have things really changed so much?

I'm not sure exactly what I expected, but _some_thing.

Some kind of _wow, it's great to see you, Captain. So glad you're not dead_.

Granted, it was the lunch hour so there weren't a lot of detectives around, but still…

I kept my head up and my eyes forward, but I couldn't keep from using my peripheral vision to scan for Goren.

Or Logan.

I wasn't sure what kind of welcome I'd get from either of them.

Goren probably had a party when he thought I was dead, and Logan…please.

Those two were a match made in hell. I'd probably only need to hang around for a few minutes to find multiple departmental violations.

Logan hadn't even been with the department when I left.

In fact, he'd quit a couple of years before, disenfranchised with the whole system, so I'd been really surprised to hear that he was back.

_And dating Liz_.

How the hell had that happened?

It was hard to say, but it was near the top of my list of things I'm going to fix now that I'm back.

I paused in front of the door to my office.

Her office.

_The captain's office that would be mine again soon enough._

The blinds were closed and I wondered for a moment if maybe she was out to lunch.

And then I wondered why I'd even come here.

_To apologize for yesterday?_

_To see Goren and Logan, maybe shake their hands for their part in taking down Hassan? _

Who am I kidding?

I'm here because I'm curious as to how things are going in Major Case.

I saw a clip of Eames on the news last night, and I hate to admit it, but she did really well.

Was it possible that she was flawlessly running this department?

And that Goren was happily working beneath her?

When I told Moran that I wanted Eames to fill my vacated spot – when I got the job of Deputy Chief – I never expected her to actually take it.

And I figured that if she _did _take it, it would be the end of Goren.

Without her, he'd self-destruct in a matter of weeks.

_Apparently not._

I raised my hand to knock, but my pride wouldn't let me do it.

I don't _knock_ on the captain's door.

I _am_ the captain.

So I opened the door and saw Logan holding Eames in a bear hug.

And she was smiling.

And Goren was saying something like _not even your dented refrigerator can top that_.

But at the sound of the door opening, they all stopped what they were doing and turned to look at me.

I didn't say anything at first.

Instead, I looked around the room, taking in the casual and relaxed scene.

They were…eating lunch?

Since when did detectives hang out and have lunch in the captain's office?

And then I looked at Logan as he stepped away from Eames, and I was unable to resist analyzing him, wondering what in the world Liz found so appealing about him.

"Ross," Eames stated, blatantly dropping my title and clearly displeased with the fact that I'd interrupted their closed-door session.

Goren got up from his chair and stared at me, too, and suddenly the situation was even more awkward than I'd expected, and I had the insane urge to turn around and run.

"_It's going to take time."_

That's what my handler had said to me.

"_You have to remember that everyone with whom you're re-associating yourself has been under the impression that you were killed_."

"_No kidding. I'm the one who spent the past year in Wisconsin."_

"_Which you can't tell them,"_ she'd reminded me forcefully. "_You can't tell them anything about what's gone on…our part in the Hassan investigation or what happened afterwards."_

"_I know the drill, Anne, so spare me the lecture, okay?"_

Because it was tough for me to show her any respect.

For the past year, she'd been at my beck and call, specifically assigned to take care of my wants and needs.

Or at least, that's how it felt to me.

I picked out the apartment I wanted, and she secured it.

I told her where I wanted to work, and she got me the job.

For ten months, I'd spouted requests, and nearly every one of them was granted.

"It's customary to knock on a door when its closed," Eames said pointedly.

_And I'm not in Wisconsin anymore, _I reminded myself.

I started to say something smart.

In fact, I had it right on the tip of my tongue, but considering I was flanked by Logan and Goren, I thought it might be better if I eased up on my position a little.

"Old habits die hard," I said with forced casualness.

"Apparently so do old captains," Logan retorted. And then he put a smile on his face and said, "But it's good to see you, Ross. I'd shake your hand, but…"

He finished his statement by holding up his hand. It was yellowish-brown in places and bluish-purple in others and it had what appeared to be a healing bullet wound in it.

"Hassan's cronies managed to get in a good one," Goren explained. And then he offered his hand and said, "A faked death. I should've considered that one. Your people did a nice job."

I was still reeling from Logan's cordialness.

Had Liz not told him about my visit?

That gave me hope, because if she kept it from him, that meant things might not be all that great between them.

I shook Goren's hand and as I refocused on the current situation, I realized that he was squeezing a little tighter than was necessary, and the handshake went on longer than normal.

Classic alpha male behavior, and yet unexpected from him.

Was he really going to challenge my position here?

I'd have to nip that in the bud as soon as I was back in this office.

Goren finally let go, but he held my gaze for a moment longer and then he turned to Eames and said, "Captain, I'll bring those pictures to you in a few minutes, and then we're going to swing by the CCS and check on their progress."

"Keep me posted," she replied.

Logan gave me a careful onceover and then slowly moved past me, heading for the door.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Ross," he said over his shoulder as he went through the doorway.

"It is," Goren agreed, shaking my hand once more. "You should stop by again some time."

Then he nodded at Eames and left the office.

"Subtle," I said smartly to Eames once we were alone.

"Loyal," she corrected. "So what can I do for you?"

"I just wanted to see the old stomping ground again. Where is everybody?" I asked, looking through the open doorway.

"Well, Callas really cleaned house when she took over, so there aren't but a handful of detectives left from your days as captain."

"Callas?"

"My predecessor," she explained.

"What about Zach? And Wheeler?"

"You really haven't called anyone since you've been back, have you?" she asked in surprise. "Zach quit. The NYPD investigation into Hassan's dealings left him with a bad taste in his mouth. He stuck it out for a while, and then he decided he'd had enough. And Megan never came back after having the baby. You know, you go back a ways with both of them…especially Zach."

"Are you going to chastise me for not making a couple of phone calls?" I asked, instantly annoyed with her condescension.

"I'm just wondering what's going through your head."

"Excuse me, Captain?"

"Yes?" I answered at the same time as Eames, and as I turned around to look at the detective standing in the doorway, it finally hit me that he didn't mean _me_ because he was looking at _her_ and then he bounced his gaze to me uncomfortably for a moment and then back to her.

"What can I do for you, Wyatt?" she asked since my presence seemed to have him tongue-tied.

"Oh, it's…we just got a call from the 2-4 and it looks like…our…um…we've got a…um…" he stammered, still watching me closely and then he stepped up to Eames and said something in her ear.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Eames muttered.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. No. Yuille and I are going to…"

"Yes, go."

He gave me a hard stare and then turned and left the office.

"Eloquent," I remarked.

"Cautious," she replied protectively. "You could be a reporter for all he knows."

"Speaking of reporters, I notice you're on a first name basis with a whole slew of them," I said. "I guess they're taking advantage of having a pretty face in the office for the time being."

"This media assignment is short-term."

"You could have a career in that department. I wouldn't close doors just yet."

She stared at me for a moment and then shook her head and walked around the desk, taking a seat and putting the massive structure in between us.

"I can understand that it's probably strange for you," she said as she waved casually at one of the chairs.

I mentally kicked myself for waiting for her offer.

This is _my_ office.

I should've just sat down.

But since I didn't, I wasn't going to do it now.

"Strange?"

"You've been gone. As far as you're concerned, things should still be the same now that you're back. But it doesn't work like that. You made the choice to do what you did, and now you have to live with the consequences."

"I made the choice? You think I chose to be targeted by Hassan?"

"You _chose_ to go undercover with the feds. _And_ with this other unnamed agency that you and I both know is the CIA. And you _definitely_ chose not to trust any of your detectives."

"I was supposed to trust you and Goren?"

"With the fact that you were working cases for dual agencies? Yes," she fired back, and there was that Eames temper again. Or rather, the Goren temper that she'd assimilated. "If we'd have known that, then we would've pieced together what happened. And we might have been able to take Hassan down a whole lot faster. But the CIA never showed its head once you went under and the FBI was in the dark, so it took us a long time to make sure that we had everyone. And now you're back because we were successful, and yet you just expect things to go back to the way they were. That's just not going to happen."

"I want my job back. What's wrong with wanting that?"

"I'm sorry…Captain?"

Yet another detective lurking in the doorway.

This time, I managed not to answer, since it was obvious she wasn't speaking to me.

"What can I do for you Jacobs?"

"Oh," she said when she saw me standing off to the side. "I'll come back."

"I'll be done in just a few minutes," Eames told her, clearly letting me know that _I'd_ be done in a few minutes.

That was fine.

This visit hadn't gone like I'd hoped anyway.

"So…" Eames said as she got up from her chair. "Feel free to walk around and reacquaint yourself with the lay of the land."

"I appreciate the hospitality," I said smartly.

She was going to _allow_ me to walk through my own precinct?

"I understand you have a meeting with Zaring and Moran on Monday," she continued as she came back around in front of the desk.

"Yes, I do."

"Good luck," she said as she offered to shake my hand. I clasped my hand onto hers and she held my gaze and said, "You know, a thank you and a little bit of humility might have made this whole thing different."

"You're the second person who thinks I should've said thank you."

"Liz," she stated knowingly.

"Still a good detective, I see."

"I've only been out of the field for a week now. You know, the Hassan case and all. How long have you been out?"

"Touché, Eames."

"_Captain_ Eames," she corrected with a smile.

"So everyone keeps telling me."

We broke off the handshake and she walked with me to the door, and we got there at the same time that Goren showed up.

"Captain, I've got those pictures," he said to her, ignoring me altogether.

"Thank you," she told him as she accepted the offered file folder.

"And you've got…" he began and then he trailed off and tapped his watch.

"Right," I said after Eames nodded at Goren and he went back to his desk. "Press conference. I won't keep you."

I glanced around the room, seeing that a lot of detectives were back from lunch. The flurry of activity gave me a surge of adrenaline.

_I want this back._

"You know," I continued. "If I come back…_when_ I come back…I'll put you back with Goren, if you want. I don't have any problem moving Logan around."

"I'm sure you don't, seeing how he's dating the woman you want," she said, catching me off-guard with her ability to see through my intentions.

"You think I'd make a professional move based on personal motives?"

"Honestly? I don't think it matters. We're discussing an obsolete scenario."

And as we stood there, neither of us backing down from the other, the sprinkler system went off.

I couldn't help but laugh as I looked out across the squad room and watched the detectives scramble to protect their work.

I glanced back at Eames, who was already soaking wet and due in front of the cameras in ten minutes, and I gave her my best condescending smile.

"Obsolete? I think you meant to say imminent."

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I'd barely stepped away from the podium when I felt my cell phone buzzing in my pocket.<p>

_Damn, Zaring, you can see me on TV…give me a minute to get inside._

I let it ring as I opened the door and stepped inside of 1PP and then I pulled it out and answered it.

"Eames, what the hell was that?"

It wasn't Zaring.

It was Moran.

"I'm sorry, sir, you're going to have to be more specific," I said tiredly.

Because I'd felt harried and unprepared for the whole thing, like I was constantly back on my heels, and worse yet, I could just picture Ross laughing maniacally while watching on TV.

"I've got the head of CCS up my ass already," he fired back. "You know what it does to that department when the announcement's made that murderers are meeting up in some kind of glorified chat room?"

"I'm not sure, but if it finds us our killers, then I'm not going to feel bad about giving them a little more work," I replied defensively.

"So you _meant_ to disclose that information?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's just great. And I suppose you also meant to announce that a co-conspirator in the judge's murder has turned up dead."

"You thought I'd hide it? Misty Hahn's body was found in broad daylight at a public beach."

"You suggested that she's another potential victim of Martha Schuler."

"She is!" I shouted in frustration. I ran my hand through my still wet hair and leaned against the corridor wall. "Chief…trust me. I know what I'm doing."

He was quiet for a minute, and I was flooded with self-doubt.

_Do I_ _know what I'm doing?_

Channel 7 had started off the session by asking me again about Yuille.

"_Don't you think this city would be better served if the supposedly elite Major Case wasn't staffed by detectives such as Nick Yuille_?"

I immediately went on the attack because quite honestly, I'd had enough of her.

"_Theresa, did you have a personal relationship with Detective Yuille? Is that why you feel the need to throw him under the bus at every opportunity?"_

She rolled her eyes at me and said, "_You didn't answer my question."_

_"And you didn't answer mine,"_ I retorted. "_What's your obsession with Detective Yuille?"_

_"Okay,"_ she said, standing up a little straighter. _"Fine. It goes back to what we discussed on Monday. He was having an illicit affair with a superior officer, and then he received a promotion. Can you explain that?"_

"_If you'd like me to spend our time giving a Q&A session on each of my detectives, I can certainly accommodate you. When I took over as captain, Nick Yuille was already in the department. He's an excellent detective and has proven to me time and again that he deserves the position. As for whether or not he's having an illicit affair with his superior officer, considering that's me, I can say without a doubt that he is not. Next question."_

_"Has Yuille tracked down Martha Schuler yet?"_

_"Detective Yuille has a partner," _I said sharply. "_Detective Wyatt. They work together, and no they have not yet tracked Martha Schuler. However, this morning the body of her co-conspirator, Misty Hahn, was found on Rockaway Beach. This discovery has led to new leads on the whereabouts of Martha Schuler."_

_"So a woman was murdered because of Yuille's inability to make an arrest?"_

_"A woman was murdered because of another woman's homicidal tendencies. Next question."_

_"Personnel Q&A!"_ another reporter shouted. "_Detective Logan was brought to Major Case last month after a two-year sabbatical."_

_"Is that a question, Paul?"_

_"No, but this is. Was he brought back because of a personal relationship between the two of you?"_

"_Did the chief hire him because he's a friend of mine? I seriously doubt it. I have a lot of friends, and only some of them work for the department. It's more likely that he was brought back due to his exceptional investigative skills."_

_"So you're not involved with him,"_ he stated disbelievingly, and suddenly all of the Yuille questions became crystal clear.

Alonzo.

She's the one who suspected that I was sleeping with Logan.

And she most definitely still hated me for taking her job and getting her fired.

Of course, Ross had walked into my office today while Logan was giving me a congratulatory hug.

Had _he_ planted the seed in a reporter's mind?

Would he stoop that low, just to get his job back?

"_Asked and answered. He's a friend. Now, are there any real questions out there?"_

_"The Five Boroughs Killer…has any progress been made on identifying the latest victims?"_

_"We've been able to identify four out of the six. I have two more photos with me today that I'd like to show you. If anyone has any information on either of these two girls, please call the NYPD tip line."_

_"You're still using a tip line,"_ Theresa called out. "_So you have no leads?"_

_"At this time, we suspect that there are at least two killers who either first met or are presently meeting in a chat room created for the fantasy of murder."_

_"Chat rooms like that exist? Why hasn't it been shut down?"_

"_As long as it's fantasy, it's not illegal_," I reminded them. "_This particular one seems to have turned into a macabre competition and our Computer Crimes Squad is working with Major Case to track it down." _

_"Captain, I received word this morning that former Major Case Captain Danny Ross, who was purported to be the victim of murder last year, has returned to New York_ _after spending the past year in witness protection. Can I get a comment from you about that?"_

Comment.

I'd give him a comment.

The man was an arrogant prick before he died, and he'd somehow come back as an overblown version of his annoying former self.

"_That is true, yes. After the culmination of an investigation into Khy Hassan two weeks ago, it was deemed safe for Danny Ross to resume his normal life."_

_"The investigation which resulted in the death of Hassan,_" the mouse clarified. "_Weren't you a part of that investigation?"_

"_Yes, I was, along with three other exemplary members of the NYPD."_

_"And Hassan was killed during the sting?" _Channel 7 pointed out.

"_Along with a weapons dealer and a murdering ex-con, yes."_

_"Will Captain Ross be rejoining the NYPD?"_

_"At this time, I can't comment on Mr. Ross' future with the department."_

I'd wrapped it up shortly thereafter, and then gone inside to deal with Moran.

"I _do_ trust you, Eames. But I'm going out on a limb for you and I don't want you to send us both tumbling."

I wasn't sure what he meant by going out on a limb for me.

Was Zaring fighting with him over my position? As annoying as I find the commissioner, I was still under the impression that he's happy with my work.

"I won't," I assured him. "And do you know what you can do for me?"

"What do you need?"

"Get that damn sprinkler system fixed. How am I supposed to run a department that has regular monsoons?"

Not to mention the fact that I knew Zaring was going to bitch about my outfit, but I only had one extra in my locker and somehow I didn't think going in front of the camera in a soaking wet white blouse that had turned see-through was a good idea.

Although hell, with Zaring, who knows?

Maybe it would've scored me points.

So instead, I was in a black cap-sleeve knit top and black jeans, with my badge and gun clipped to my belt. Not exactly _captain's_ attire, but like I said…it was dry and it didn't look like something from the pages of Playboy, so it was better than the alternative.

"I wondered why you were dressed so casual," Moran said on a chuckle, finally having relaxed. The man went through mood swings like a pregnant woman, and sometimes it was hard to keep up, but at least he didn't stay mad for long.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure I'll hear about it from the commissioner," I grumbled.

"Zaring's a pussycat. Don't worry about him," he stated.

"About this? Or at all?" I asked cryptically.

"I've got your back, Captain. You just catch this Five Boroughs Killer, okay?"

"That's the plan, Chief."

"Oh, and Eames…what are you going to do about Alonzo?"

"You noticed that, too, huh?"

"She's the only one who ever mentioned there being something between you and Logan, so it makes sense…that, plus Channel 7's focus on Yuille."

"I might have a sit-down with Theresa."

"An exclusive?"

"No, an off-the-record chat. Zaring already promised an exclusive to NBC."

"Of course he did," he muttered. "Yeah, okay. Get to the bottom of this thing, and if Alonzo's working on a smear campaign, hit her with a slander suit."

"Well, it's possible that it's someone else. Or at least, the Logan thing."

I figured I needed to get ahead of whatever Ross might try to say about what he'd walked in on today.

"Whoa, hang on. There's not something to it, is there?"

"No, sir. Absolutely not," I said quickly.

"Because I don't want to think about what I'd have to do…"

"I understand. Although you know, I heard from Captain Maas that he's got a new set of regulations ready for you to look at."

"So you think personal relationships should be accepted in the workplace?"

"I think that it's human nature for personal relationships to develop, whether it's against the rules or not. By keeping the ban in place, you're asking for there to be subterfuge and obfuscation in an environment that's supposed to be open and team-oriented."

He was quiet for a minute, and I thought maybe I'd gone too far, but really, he'd opened the door to this discussion.

"Alex," he began, and his use of my first name threw me. "Off the record, I promise, but I need to know. Are you and Logan involved?"

I let out a breath that I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"No. Logan's a very good friend. And he's in a relationship with someone else."

"Okay," he said, exhaling heavily. "Okay, good. So what happened that makes you think someone else suspects the two of you?"

My phone buzzed and I looked at the display and saw that Zaring was calling.

"Um…you know what? It's nothing. I'll handle it," I said quickly. "The commissioner's calling on the other line, so I'd better take it."

I hung up with Moran and answered Zaring's call as I continued to stand in the empty back hall.

"Got a little off track today, huh, Eames?" he boomed.

"Reporters tend to do that when you give them plenty of rope."

"Well, you did alright. And I got a call from the mayor a minute ago. He loves your outfit. He said it made you look like some kind of Hollywood actress portraying a cop."

_Oh my God._

I spent an hour in front of the cameras, updating the public on all kinds of cases while deflecting personal questions…and the mayor called to say he likes my _outfit_?

I've had just about enough of this media crap.

"Well, I wouldn't want to look like a real cop, now would I?" I said with heavy sarcasm.

"It's a good thing, Eames!" he said enthusiastically. "And he's right, too. They're lapping it up! People used to think NYPD and they'd think some old fat uniformed cop with a doughnut in his hand. You know what the tagline is now? I just saw it on CNN a minute ago. NYPD – Not Your Papa's Department."

"What the hell does that mean?" I asked, my confusion overriding my manners.

"It means my idea worked, Eames! Now, the NYPD has a hot new image. It's got a badass chick with a gun who gives a verbal smack-down to any reporter who gets out of line!"

"Sir…"

"Not my words, Eames," he said quickly. "I'm only saying what _they're_ saying. You know, as media liaison…"

"I have no interest whatsoever in becoming the department's media liaison. As soon as Goren and Logan catch the FBK, I'm out of the spotlight, okay?"

He paused and I closed my eyes, feeling yet another headache coming on.

I thought the press conference was my worst yet, but everyone was happy because of what I'm wearing…this wasn't why I joined the department, that's for sure.

"I've got a meeting with Ross on Monday morning," he said pointedly, as though that should change my thoughts on his job offer.

"Great. Maybe he'll be interested in being the media liaison."

"He wants Major Case."

"No kidding."

"The mayor wants him to have it, too. He was there for five years, you know. You've been there a month."

I felt my heart skip a beat as I waited for what he was going to say next.

Were they really just going to shove me out now that Ross had come skipping back to town?

"Yes, sir," I agreed carefully, pleased that my voice didn't crack, because I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to cry.

"We can make this easy," he continued. "With no hard feelings. I'm offering you a viable position in front of your adoring public."

"Or?"

"Or it turns into a power play. You against Ross."

"Have you ever known me to take the easy way out of anything?"

"No," he said on a chuckle.

"Then may the best man win."

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Aren't you impressed?"<p>

"With myself? Or with you?"

Logan looked at me and grinned and said, "Both of us. We should get a medal or something for our amazing display of restraint."

"Maybe we need to ask the chief about that," I joked as we sat down at our desks.

I hated leaving Alex in there alone with Ross, but at the same time, I had no doubt that she'd handle him. I kept one eye on the doorway, sort of expecting to see Ross come running out with his tail between his legs at any moment.

"You know he kissed her, right?" Logan said in a low voice as he leaned across his desk towards me.

"What? Kissed who?"

"Ross. Kissed Liz."

I stared at him in amazement and then said, "Well, it's official then. _You_ deserve the medal."

I couldn't imagine what I would've done to him if he'd tried something like that with Alex.

Okay, I _could_ imagine.

He'd be dead for real.

"What are we going to do if they try to muscle Alex out of that job?" he asked me with a nod towards her office door. "I'm not working for Ross."

"Neither am I."

"I wonder how many other people feel like that," he posed.

I took a moment to glance around the room.

There weren't very many detectives left from Ross' era. And the ones who were didn't strike me as being big fans. It wasn't just me he'd treated with disdain.

I mean, I think he hated me more than most, but still…his general demeanor was one of superiority.

Alex, on the other hand, had already earned the respect of the department.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked as a slow smile spread across his face.

"As scary as it is to admit it, yes I am," I replied.

"Hey, Goren," Jacobs said as she approached my desk. "Who's the suit in with the captain?"

"You don't know Danny Ross? He used to be the captain here," Logan answered for me.

"Oh! You know, I've heard about him. When I first got to Major Case, a lot of the detectives here had worked under him. The consensus is that he's a decent cop, but he acts like a tool."

"Sounds about right," Logan agreed.

"Yeah, you know he wants his job back," I stated, feeling her out.

"Eames' job? Good luck," she said smartly as her gaze strayed to the doorway. "So what's he doing in there? Measuring for drapes?"

"We think he's staking out his territory under the guise of taking a walk down memory lane."

"Huh," she mused, and then she winked at us and wandered over to Alex's office.

"I'm sorry…Captain?" I heard her say as she stood in the doorway.

I knew I liked her for a reason.

Logan cast me a quick glance and then watched as Jacobs faked her way through a conversation.

After a minute, she came back to our desks.

"You're right about his motive," she said. "When I got there, I heard him saying flat-out that he wants his job back, and with the attitude as if he expects her to hand it to him."

"What did she say?"

"I don't know, but she didn't look intimidated. She was even sitting behind her desk, and you know she hardly ever does that."

"Hey, she's got her press conference in ten minutes," Logan pointed out. "You think he's trying to make her late?"

"I don't know," I said as I got up from my desk. "But I think it's my turn to interrupt."

I picked up the pictures that she'd need for her media session and then I headed for her office.

I got to the door at the same time they did.

"Captain, I've got those pictures," I said, purposely ignoring Ross.

"Thank you."

"And you've got…" I reminded her in shorthand because I knew it would annoy Ross. He always used to hate it when we had conversations that he couldn't grasp. Not that I thought he wouldn't know about her press conference, but still…I just felt the need to get on his nerves.

Alex gave me a nod and held my gaze for just a moment and then I turned and went back to my desk. I could hear Ross mumbling to her, but I couldn't make it out, and then the sprinkler system went off.

Of all times.

Ross made a hasty departure, looking all too pleased with himself as though the malfunctioning pipes had something to do with Alex's ability to run the department.

Alex stood, staring upwards at the origin of the downpour, and then she pulled her office door shut and headed in my direction while Logan and I each opened our desk drawers and cleared off the paperwork from the top, shoving it into the waiting dry space.

"I've got an outfit in the locker room, so I'm going to change and get downstairs," she told us.

"You okay?" Logan asked her, and to his credit, he kept his eyes on hers.

Me, I was having trouble.

Because her white blouse was by now soaking wet.

And I tried not to look.

Really.

Because we were still in the squad room.

But other detectives were rushing around in the chaos created by the unexpected shower, so no one was paying attention to the fact that I couldn't tear my eyes away from the way her now-sheer blouse was clinging to her.

"I don't remember him being such a douche," she replied in annoyance.

"Really?" Logan asked. "Because I remember him being exactly that."

"Okay, yeah, he was. Let's just say now he's even _more_ of a douche. He actually told me that when he takes over my job, he'll let me be your partner again, Bobby," she said as she turned to look at me, catching my inappropriate stare.

"He'll _let_ you?" I asked, slowly dragging my eyes upward.

She shifted the file folder so that it was in front of her and then she smiled at me.

"That's what he said. And Logan…your traveling papers are in the works."

"I'm sure I'm not his favorite person now that he knows about me and Liz."

"So he's going to transfer him out because of who he's dating?" I asked quietly. "Alex…"

"It's not going to happen," she said firmly. "I need to get cleaned up, but we'll talk about this more later, okay? In the meantime…"

"I know. Find the killer," I said.

She hustled towards the locker room as the sprinklers finally cut off.

"You know," I began thoughtfully as I took off my suit jacket and squeezed it out before hanging it on the back of my chair. "If we're looking for internet lurkers…where's the place where more people meet than anywhere else?"

"Facebook," he answered quickly, giving me a nod. "Shit, why didn't I think of that?"

"Let's see if our known victims have accounts."

"Assuming our computers haven't shorted out," he joked.

After nearly an hour of cruising through Facebook, not only had we found the accounts of all four girls, but we were also able to start comparing their friends.

And they each had a _lot_ of friends.

Now if we could only that our victims had at least one friend in common...

"Hey, Goren!" Meeks called out. "The tip line got my desk by mistake, but it looks like you might have a name for one of your Jane Does!"

"Already?" I asked in surprise as I got up from my chair and went over to Meeks' desk. I glanced at the clock and realized that Alex was probably done with her press conference, but she hadn't come back upstairs yet.

"Yeah," Meeks replied as he handed me a piece of paper where he'd taken the message. "The caller thinks the brunette is her next door neighbor."

"The brunette," Logan said, having come up behind me. "Number five. Where?"

"An address on Staten Island," I remarked as I looked over the paper.

"I guess he really is hitting all five boroughs, huh?"

We thanked Meeks and headed for the elevator. The doors opened just as we arrived, and there was Alex.

"You guys got a lead?" she asked, not making any move to get off.

And she looked upset.

"Yeah, ride down with us," I said as I got on.

The doors closed and I quickly moved closer to her. Logan pushed the button and then stood unobtrusively off to one side.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"What isn't?" she retorted.

"The press conference?"

"And the subsequent phone calls. You know what they like most about me?" she asked as her mood shifted from upset to ticked off. "The way I look on camera. It doesn't seem to matter whether or not I'm a good cop or a good boss…"

"You are," Logan spoke up. "Both."

"Tell it to the mayor. He wants me to be the new media liaison so badly he can taste it, and as far as he's concerned, Ross' timing is perfect because then there won't be any lag time for Major Case."

"That's what the mayor wants?" I asked in surprise. "What about Zaring?"

"He's okay with the fact that I'm willing to fight for it, but he didn't sound hopeful," she said in annoyance. "And I didn't even do very well today, but supposedly I look like a badass chick with a gun, so that makes it all okay. God, Bobby, what the hell is wrong with these people? Is image so important to them that they're willing to overlook everything else?"

"It's a phase," I said. And then I glanced at Logan and added, "If we can catch our killer and get you out of the limelight, maybe things will settle down."

"I don't know if that can happen fast enough. This meeting on Monday…"

"It'll have to outline some things that Ross has to do to be reinstated. He can't just walk right in and act like he never left."

"Huh," she scoffed.

By this time, the elevator was in the parking garage, but Logan stepped in the way of the opened doors so that they couldn't close, keeping the elevator where it was.

"Oh, and Logan…the rumor's back out that I'm sleeping with you," she added with heavy sarcasm. "I actually had a reporter ask me that today."

"Alonzo?" I questioned. "Or Ross? Did he ask you why Logan was hugging you or did he just pretend like it never happened?"

"He didn't mention it. And it might be him who threw it to the reporters, but my money's on Alonzo."

"They have been asking a lot about Yuille," Logan pointed out. "It would make sense."

"I'm going to have to call her. Or maybe have a face-to-face. With her, and with that Channel 7 viper."

"Did Zaring comment on that?"

"No, but Moran did. He asked me point-blank, off the record," she said, and then she smiled and added, "Which did allow me get in a plug about the new policy."

"We'll take the positives where we can get them," I replied, matching her smile.

"Uh huh. Okay, so…a lead?"

"We have a possible identity on number five. We're going out to Staten Island. Oh, and we might be on to something with a Facebook connection."

"Common friends?" she asked hopefully.

"We're plowing through it," I promised.

"Alright, I'm going to get the car," Logan announced. He stepped away and let the doors close and I took advantage of the brief moment of privacy.

"You're okay?" I asked, stroking my fingers along her cheek.

"Yeah, just…worked up…and wondering if I'm biting off more than I can chew."

"You belong in that office, Alex. Don't ever doubt that. Logan and I will snag the FBK and you'll be the hero, okay? And then the mayor will look like an idiot for even considering moving you somewhere else."

"I don't know, Bobby…"

"And _then_," I continued, gently interrupting her. "Moran will sign off on the new regs, and I'll be able to make an honest woman out of you."

She laughed, as I'd hoped she would, and then gave me a steady nod.

"You're right. Thanks, I just needed…"

"A little confidence boost?"

"No. You."

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>I've presently got more bodies than I can count.<p>

Well, not literally, but still…

The six girls from FBK…the co-conspirator hooker from the Judge Schuler case…and another victim in Meeks and Granger's case, one who was supposedly killed while they were interrogating their suspect, thus providing him with an alibi.

So in all, eight bodies which needed extra special attention, and since I've turned into Major Case's most favorite ME, they were all looking to me to find that certain something that'll help break their case.

And it's not that I mind.

In fact, I'm honored that they all think so highly of my work.

But the problem is that while I've got eight bodies on the tables around me, my mind's been on the one body that's been in my bed every night for a month.

His little temper tantrum last night, after I mentioned the kiss, wasn't unexpected.

And I don't know why, but for some reason, watching him get all worked up, got _me_ worked up.

In an entirely different way.

I smiled just thinking about it.

"Um…Dr. Rodgers?" Sarah said as she entered my morgue and interrupted my mental replay of the _third_ time Mike made love to me last night.

"What is it?" I asked her without looking up from the body I was examining.

There was something about Misty Hahn that I couldn't put my finger on.

"I think I found something interesting," she said. "And why are you so happy when you're snowed under?"

"I'm just…happy," I replied. "What did you find?"

"Well, like you asked, I've been working on breaking down the chemical that was used to obliterate the finger prints."

I stopped what I was doing and looked up at her, sensing her underlying excitement.

"And?"

"Battery acid," she replied. "Only here's where it gets weird."

"I'm listening."

"There are several different substances mixed with the acid. And I don't mean several on each victim. I mean each victim has some other substance, and they all differ from each other."

I stared at her for a moment and waited for her to elaborate.

"Lemon juice," she stated. "Trace cardboard particles. Dirt. Fish cells."

"Fish?"

"Uh huh. And I don't think I want to know the _why_ of this one, but urine. And blood."

"There wasn't blood in all of the samples?"

"I mean blood that doesn't match the victim."

"Oh," I said thoughtfully. And then I said, "Oh!"

"What?"

"The killer used a knife to cut the fingertips and _then_ he put on the battery acid. The knife damage was covered by the acid damage, but by cutting the skin first, it increased the effectiveness of the acid."

"So the other substances…they were transferred from the knife?"

"Or rather knives. And since none of it was duplicated, it sounds like there might be _six_ different killers."

"Huh. Okay…but urine? Really? Who pees on a knife?"

"Yeah, well, I don't know the answer to that one, but if the detectives can pull in a suspect, we'll be sure to have them ask."

I pulled off my gloves and took a step back from the table, but then I started thinking again.

"Hey, smell her," I instructed.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Come on, Sarah. Take a good whiff."

She rolled her eyes at me but stepped closer to the body.

"What am I sniffing for?"

"I don't want to tell you. I want to see if you smell the same thing I do."

She leaned down and took two quick sniffs and then paused and moved closer, this time inhaling deeply through her nose.

I knew once she got over the gross-factor that she'd catch on to what I was talking about.

"Coconut," she said.

"Where?" I encouraged, and then I stood back as she did a full-body olfactory inspection.

"Around her neck," she said as she stood up and gave me a smile. "The killer had coconut-scented lotion on her hands when she strangled her."

"A-plus for you today," I quipped. "I'll let you do the honors of calling either Wyatt or Yuille and giving them the information. I'll call Logan and tell him about our six-killer theory."

"Well, or maybe it's just six different knives," she posed. "Maybe the guy has a collection or something."

"Doubtful, but that'll be up to them to sort out."

She nodded and pulled out her phone.

"Hey, what's up with you and Logan anyway?"

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently.

"I saw him checking you out at the scene the other day."

"Sarah, I'm an old, bitchy ME," I replied. "I seriously doubt Detective Logan was checking me out."

"Uh huh," she said dubiously. "Then how come you're so happy lately? And you know you're not old."

"Just bitchy?" I joked.

"Hey, if you don't want to talk about it, I get it," she said casually. "But I mean, the man is blistering, so if it was me…"

"You think he's hot?" I asked her, a little surprised, but only because she's about half my age.

"Oh my God, seriously, Doc? You don't?"

"Oh, I do," I said with a smile. I pulled out my phone and added, "Make your call."

Three hours later, I was in a booth at Pete's, sitting next to the blistering hot Mike Logan.

"He actually suggested that he'd transfer you, if he takes over?" I asked incredulously.

"That's what Alex said. He told her she could partner with me and that he had no problem moving Logan around," Bobby answered as he sat across from us piddling with his cell phone.

"I bet he doesn't," I mumbled, instantly annoyed with Danny's gall. "But it's not going to happen, is it? I mean, Moran's not that stupid."

"Moran's not. We're not sure about Zaring," Mike replied.

"Or the mayor. He loves her in front of the camera."

"Maybe she needs to be a little less successful," I suggested.

"I don't think he cares," Bobby said. "He likes the way she looks, and he likes how the reporters have taken to her. I think he sees Ross as the perfect opportunity for a shake-up."

"So…what are you two going to do about it?"

"We're working on it," Mike said. "Trust me."

"Where is she, anyway?"

"She's on her way. She had to meet up with Stanley to give him the keys to her apartment."

"Oh, that's right. He's moving in this weekend, isn't he?"

"Uh huh," he mused, still typing.

"So how'd it go on Staten Island? Do we have another name?" I asked Mike.

"Lindsay Hill," he replied. "Age eighteen, just moved into her own apartment last month."

"And she's got a Facebook page," Bobby said, holding up his phone for us to see.

"Facebook?"

"All of our girls are on there," Mike explained. "Or five out of the six, anyway."

"You think that's how they're being targeted?"

"Listen to this," Bobby said. "_Who's up for some fun_, she posted Tuesday night. And there are a bunch of comments. _I'm in. What did you have in mind? 40/40 at 10. See you there._"

"They just document their whole itinerary on the net?" I asked incredulously. "Anybody could've seen that and known where to find her."

"Or known where _not_ to find her," Mike posed. "Her apartment would've been empty, and chances were good she'd be getting home late…"

"Tuesday night," Bobby stated. "And she was found murdered Wednesday morning."

"It's the perfect hunting ground," I commented. "Who needs to actually stalk anymore when you can just read about your victim on the web?"

"Uh huh," Mike agreed.

"So this thing with the knives," Bobby said suddenly as he put his phone away. "Something completely different on each one?"

"Yeah. No two samples contained the same substance, with the exception of the battery acid."

"Why would someone cut first?" he asked me. "Do you think they tried to remove the prints that way, and then gave up? I mean, that would be my first guess, but not when it was done six different times."

"The acid works better on raw skin. It would eat away at the epidermis, but more slowly. By cutting into the subcutaneous layers, the acid worked much faster."

"So they talked about it," Mike said. "They had to. We need to get CCS to search for conversations in forums containing the words _battery_ _acid_ and _knife_. Someone gave a tutorial on how to make the acid work more efficiently."

"Are you cross-checking their friends lists, too?"

"Yeah, but these girls have hundreds upon hundreds," he complained. "And you know it's all crap. Nobody has that many friends. I mean, I've got what…four?"

"Four what?" Alex asked as she arrived at the table and slid in next to Bobby.

"Four favorite positions, although I'm planning on testing out a fifth later," he joked as he waggled his eyebrows at me. "I read about one position where you…"

"I really don't need to hear details," she interrupted as she smirked at him and shook her head.

Although now I was intrigued.

Mike's a very adventurous and creative lover, so if he had something new in mind…yeah, I was game.

"You should try being partners with him," Bobby remarked to Alex. "So did you get Stanley taken care of?"

"Uh huh. He already checked out of his hotel. I told him we'd stop by tomorrow afternoon to take another pass and make sure everything's out of his way, but it's mostly good."

"I'm sure he'll be glad to have his own place again."

"Especially for his date tonight," Alex added as she waved the waitress over to our table.

"Oh, so your apartment's finally going to see some action," Mike said.

Alex rolled her eyes at him and then looked at me and said, "That was a nice catch today with the coconut lotion."

"Did it help?"

"Yeah, and get this. It's the twin."

"Wait, back up," Mike said. "Are we talking about the Schuler case?"

"Uh huh," Alex said, nodding and smiling. "Misty Hahn was killed, and we think Marion Black did it."

"The conniving twin," Bobby murmured. "Wow, okay…well, here's a theory. What if…"

"Marion was posing as Martha in the first place?" Alex finished. "It's not on the list of impossibilities."

"Seriously? It's _not_ impossible that one twin took over the other one's life, then had the husband killed while conspiring with a hooker, and then set up the hooker for murder, and _then_ killed the hooker? Oh, and in the meantime, staged an escape by one sister only to re-emerge as the other?" Mike posed.

"See, you _do_ have it," Alex replied with a smile. "Yeah, that's what we're thinking. Wyatt and Yuille picked her up tonight and she's sweating it out in lock-up."

"Well, we might be getting close, too," Bobby told Alex. "We're going to hang with CCS tomorrow and see what pops. This Facebook angle…it's right, I can feel it. And if we throw in the search about the acid, like Logan suggested…"

"Acid?"

"The evidence leads us to believe that six different knives were used to mutilate the fingers before pouring on the acid," I explained.

"Sounds like you saved the day today, Liz."

"Yeah, well I've got eight bodies down there at once – something had to give," I deflected.

We spent a few relaxing hours, eating dinner and having a few drinks while we talked about cases and then talked about anything but cases.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Alex's cell phone rang.

"This can't be good," she mumbled as she pulled it out and looked at the display. "It's Maas."

"Maybe he's calling to ask where you keep the sex toys," Mike suggested.

She shushed him and answered the phone.

After a few minutes of listening to her side of the conversation, I still had no idea of what was going on because apparently Maas was doing most of the talking. She finally hung up and looked at Bobby with an expression of amusement and exasperation.

"What?" he asked her.

"Ross showed up at my apartment," she stated.

"Tonight?"

"Uh huh. Just a few minutes ago."

"Wait, and Maas opened the door?" I asked, grasping a hold of where this was going.

"Oh, yeah," she said with a nod. "In his _underwear_. So guess what Ross thinks of that?"

"I'm sure Stanley corrected him," Bobby said.

"Yeah, and that'll work. He's gunning for my job. What better way to discredit me than to tell the commissioner that the deputy chief answered the door to my home in his underwear at eleven o'clock on a Friday night?"

"So just explain it to him."

"Explain why I'm not living there? Yeah…face it. I'm totally screwed."

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Maas POV**

* * *

><p>I hardly slept Thursday night, worrying about what I'd succinctly dubbed <em>The Ross Situation.<em>

I barely knew the man and yet I felt like I knew him inside and out.

He was the former head of Major Case.

He'd gone undercover with the FBI – and someone else – in an effort to do something important with his life, to make a difference.

And instead, he'd ended up dead.

For a year.

And now he was back with a full head of steam and a packed agenda which included bumping one of my new best friends from her post.

And what would happen if I managed to block his move?

Very possibly, _I'd_ get bumped from _my_ post.

It was a crappy situation to be in and yet I somehow felt more protective of Alex than I did of myself.

Friday when I got into the office, Denise was giving me the eye.

And I know the look.

She wanted to tell me something that she didn't want Moran to hear.

So when, after giving me the look, she got up and went for coffee, I stuck my head in Moran's office and told him good morning, and then announced that I was going to get a cup of Joe.

"Is Denise out there?" he asked. "Because I could use some myself."

"I'll bring you a cup," I promised, and then I made my way to the tiny kitchen that served as the executive-level break room.

"Good morning, Captain," she said brightly.

"He's in his office, waiting for me to bring his coffee," I told her quietly. "What's up?"

"I just wanted you to know that I checked over Ross' paperwork, and it seems that he's missing a couple of reinstatement prerequisites."

"Really," I stated disbelievingly. "Such as…"

"Psych eval and range qualification," she replied with a sly grin. "I'll see what I can do about scheduling the necessary appointments, but it'll be next week. Probably _late_ next week."

See what I mean about Alex?

She inspires loyalty.

"Didn't he have that taken care of, courtesy of an outside agency?" I questioned.

"So he says, but if it's not in the system, then there's not much I can do about it. You know computers," she said with a shrug. "And I doubt he'll be willing to put me in touch with this _outside_ _agency_."

"Okay, well…I'm sure he'll be disappointed to hear that, but rules are rules, right?"

She stirred her coffee and said, "Exactly. And it's my understanding that if qualifications aren't fully met, then technically, job offers can't be made, either."

Which meant that Monday's meeting would be virtually pointless.

And it bought us all a little more time.

"Denise, if it wasn't against the rules, I'd whisk you away for a romantic weekend…"

"Aren't you working on getting those rules changed, Captain?" she asked coyly.

"Yes, I am."

"Well then…there's always hope, right?" she teased.

And she was definitely only teasing.

She's currently living with a man who sends her flowers and has her humming all day, so she certainly wasn't looking at an old seasoned detective like me.

Which is fine.

Because I was looking forward to my date with Traci the lawyer. Traci whose last name I'm not exactly sure of, but I definitely remember her infectious smile and her easy-going attitude.

I went back to my office and got to work.

I didn't mention the issues with Ross to Alex because I wanted to wait and see how Moran responded.

And later, I was glad I did.

"The meeting's still on," Moran told me Friday afternoon.

"What's the point?"

"The point is to lay it all out there," he said in annoyance, although it seemed to me like the irritation was directed somewhere other than at me.

"You're moving her, aren't you? You're letting Ross have his job back."

"It's not up to me, Stanley," he said, shaking his head. Then he sat back in his chair and looked at me. "It's because of him that she's there, so I suppose it's only fair…"

"No," I interrupted. "I mean, yes, it's because he _died_. But after that, she earned it and you know it."

"I moved Callas out to make room for her," he reminded me. "Because that's what Ross wanted."

"You can tell yourself that all you want to, but you moved Callas out because she was a piss-poor leader. And not only that, but you promised Goren and Eames that you'd bring them back after their undercover stint, so you were making good on _your_ promise."

"I could've brought them back as partners," he fired back, and then he looked at me challengingly, waiting to see what I had to say about that.

Did he honestly think I'd throw them under the bus?

And did he really want me to?

Was he trying to make this whole thing easier on himself, maybe by finding out the truth about her and Goren so that then he'd have a legitimate reason to move her out of that department?

"You could've. But you didn't. In fact, you gave her the study guide for the captain's exam. You encouraged her to do well, and that's exactly what she did. And this media thing that Zaring dreamed up…she's doing precisely what we asked her to do and now we're going to punish her for being great at it by moving her out of the department she loves? I'm sorry, Chief, but that's just wrong, and you know it."

And then he surprised me.

He slammed his fist down on his desk and stared at me hard.

"You think I don't know that? She's the best damn captain we've got and Zaring wants to waste her talent by sticking her in front of a camera on a daily basis…it's fucking bullshit is what it is. But they've tied my hands, Stanley. This is it. The mayor's spoken, and Zaring's lapping it up."

"So there's honestly nothing we can do?"

"I'm not ready to say that yet. But you know who'll be in the hot seat if you save her spot, right?"

"Me? Fine."

"Not happy being my deputy chief?" he asked smartly.

"Very happy. But I'm willing to take on the fight, if it means getting the scuffle out of her backyard."

He stared at me for a moment and then nodded thoughtfully.

"The mayor likes numbers," he stated with a sigh. "Bring me numbers as to why it makes sense to keep her where she is, and we might have a chance."

"Numbers," I repeated blankly. "I'm supposed to compare her one month of service to his five years?"

"I don't care how you do it. Just do it," he said firmly. And then he gave me a smile and added, "Besides, Denise bought you another week. What more do you want?"

I nodded at him and headed for the door and then I turned around and said, "I want you to sign those new regs."

"What's the big deal about that? You know, I thought maybe it was because there was some truth to this Eames-Logan thing, but she promised me off the record that there's nothing there."

"Her and Logan?" I asked in surprise.

"Didn't you watch her on TV today?"

"No. I…missed it, I guess. Someone asked about that?"

"Yeah. She thinks maybe Alonzo is feeding one of the reporters information."

"Great, so while I'm trying to build her up, Alonzo's still trying to throw mud in her face. That's helpful."

"Eames said she'd handle it."

"Uh huh. Which means she will," I pointed out. "Because she's got follow-through."

"Tough to put that on paper, though isn't it?" he said ruefully. "Especially when the mayor's got visions of re-election and he's banking on the sudden popularity of the NYPD to get him there."

Alex couldn't catch a break.

And she'd definitely made an enemy out of Alonzo.

As if she needed another issue added into the mix.

Although it was kind of funny that everyone thought she and Logan were together.

It provided a nice smokescreen for the truth.

"Oh, and Stanley," Maas called out as I was leaving.

"Yes, sir?"

"Bring me your version of the regulations. I'll read over the specific wording and let you know what I think. But promise me you're not asking because Eames is sleeping with Logan and you want to help them come out of the closet."

"Chief, I give you my word. She's not sleeping with Logan."

So I spent the afternoon poring over the considerable personnel file of Alex Eames.

And then I read every case file that had come through Major Case since she took over.

And then I went back and pulled random case files from when Ross was captain.

By five-thirty, I was half-blind and more than ready to leave the office.

I was also slightly enamored with Alex.

And I came to a decision about my recourse if the mayor insisted on following through with his idiotic plan.

"Bad time?"

I looked up and saw the subject of my afternoon-long research standing in the doorway.

"As long as you're not here on business, it's the perfect time, because I'm done for the day," I said as I shut down my computer.

"I thought you might want these," she said as she crossed the room and placed a set of keys on my desk.

"I almost forgot," I admitted. "It's a good thing you remembered, since I already checked out of my hotel."

"It would've hit you when you got in your car and didn't know where to go," she said with a smirk. "So…date tonight?"

"Yes," I said with a smile. "And I'm telling you, after the day I've had, I'm ready to blow off a little steam."

"And will Traci be ready to…blow off steam as well?" she asked leadingly.

I barked out a laugh at her comment and said, "You've been dealing with those reporters for too long if you're going to start asking me about my sex life."

"Who said anything about sex?" she asked innocently.

"Uh huh. I know how your mind works. And it's probably not the reporters...it's those hooligans you hang out with," I joked.

"Hooligans?" she said on a laugh. "Who says that anymore?"

"Ignore me. My brain's fried after today. I can't get out of this place fast enough."

"I'm with you on that. You wouldn't believe what's going on with that Schuler case. It's like a dime-store novel."

"Uh uh. No business," I reminded her. And then I added, "Unless it's important and I need to know…"

"It's all under control, Captain."

I chatted with her for a few more minutes, each of us steadfastly ignoring the subject of Ross, and then I walked with her down to the parking garage.

"Going to Pete's?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she said, looking at her watch. "And I'm late. Have fun on your date."

"That's the plan," I replied.

And a couple of hours later, my plan was going perfectly.

I went to Alex's apartment – or rather _my_ apartment – and unpacked my suitcase, and then took a shower and cleaned up before picking up Traci.

Of course, work was on my mind and I couldn't keep from sharing tidbits with her, even though I left out details.

"So a former employee is trying to smear the name of a current employee by giving false information to the press?" she asked. "That's slander. Without a doubt. You need to do something about that."

"The chief told her she could file suit if she confirms that it's who we think it is, but honestly, there's so much chaos going on right now that this petty bitterness is just a distraction."

"I'll draft the papers for you. No charge."

"I appreciate that, but like I said, we don't have proof right now."

"Serve her with the papers anyway," she said with a shrug. "If she's guilty, it'll scare her off. And if she's not…"

"She could counter-sue, right?"

"Well, she could, but…didn't you say that this woman already told your chief the same false allegation?"

"Yeah," I agreed.

"So then technically, he's a witness to the slander. She won't counter-sue. No lawyer would take that on."

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me. You want this woman off her back, right?"

"Well, yeah. Like I said, she's dealing with too many real problems to have to worry about answering questions about her sex life."

"Then let me help."

"Why would you want to do that? You don't even know her."

"No, but she's obviously someone you care a great deal about."

"Yes, I do. And the mayor is putting the squeeze on her. It's not right."

We talked some more about it, and then I moved the conversation to her because I'm not so rusty at dating to think that a woman just wants to hear about the man all night.

And really, I enjoyed learning more about her.

So it seemed only natural for me to invite her back to my place.

"I'm going to be honest," I said as I unlocked the door to my new apartment. "I just moved in here today, and I'm subletting from a woman, so if the place looks girlie…"

She laughed and then put her hand on my arm, causing me to turn back and look at her, and that's when she kissed me.

It took me a long time to get the door unlocked.

And it took us even longer to actually make it to the bedroom.

I only spared a moment wondering if Alex and Bobby had ever spent the night in this bed.

Because honestly, by this point, I just couldn't care less.

It was almost eleven when we finally decided that additional sustenance was needed, so I pulled on my boxers and headed for the kitchen, but just as I turned the corner, I heard a knock on the door.

And I didn't check the peephole.

I don't know why, but I'll blame it on my lust-hazed mind.

But I _do_ know that I nearly had a coronary when I opened the door and saw Ross standing on the other side.

"Captain," he said as a smug look settled onto his face. "I wasn't expecting…"

"It's not what you think," I interrupted.

"That's pretty cliché, don't you think?" he questioned and then he looked pointedly down at my choice of attire and then looked past me into the living room. "No wonder you ran out of Moran's office to call her yesterday. You have a personal stake in this."

"No, I don't. I mean, yes I do, but only because she's a friend."

"I can see that."

"Not that kind of friend," I said in annoyance. "I'm saying that Alex isn't here."

"So you just hang out in her apartment in your underwear?"

"And you just drop by her place unannounced at this time of night?"

"Why, are you jealous?" he asked smartly. And then he said, "I was actually coming to talk to her."

"I'm sure she has a phone."

"I'm guessing she doesn't have it on her right about now, does she?"

"She's _not_ _here_," I said again.

"So where is she?"

"That's none of your business. But I needed a place to stay, and she said her place would be empty, so she offered to let me use it."

"She's not here," he repeated.

"That's what I said."

"Interesting."

"Not really, no. But it's a fact."

"Huh. You know, I think there _have_ been a lot of changes to Major Case. The captain was hugging a detective in her office today, and now the deputy chief is in her apartment in his skivvies…what _would_ Channel 7 think?"

"I'm sure you'll be on the phone to her as soon as you leave, won't you? You want that job back any way you can get it, even if it means dragging the name of a good cop through the mud."

He didn't respond, but instead just nodded at me knowingly, and then he turned around and left.

"Shit," I muttered.

"Who was that?" Traci asked as she came out of the bedroom.

"The dead captain I was telling you about," I explained.

"What was he doing here?"

"I don't know, but now things just went from bad to worse. Give me a minute, honey. I need to make a call."

So I called Alex and told her what happened.

She took it better than I would have, considering we'd just unwittingly provided Ross with damning information.

_False_ information, but ammunition nonetheless.

I hung up with her and looked at Traci apologetically.

"I'm sorry to ruin our night, but I've got to…"

"Do damage control?"

"Oh yeah," I agreed, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I spent my whole day trying to figure out how to save her job, and in the course of about five minutes, I may have just ruined it."

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>Alex might consider herself screwed, but she managed to maintain a good attitude about it.<p>

In the end, she decided that she would say she was housesitting for her sister, who actually _was_ currently out of town, so it wasn't a tremendous stretch.

And surely no one actually suspected her of having an affair with Maas.

I mean, if it had been _me_ opening her door in my underwear…yeah, that might've really spelled trouble for us.

But Stanley had been with a date, a woman who offered to back him up, if the need arose, and admit that she'd been at the apartment with him.

And that he was only staying there for the weekend.

That last part was a little white lie, but considering the bigger lie that Ross was going to try to spread, none of us felt bad about it.

So once we got our stories straight, and exchanged a few text messages with Maas, we decided to have one more round and then call it a night.

"_We need to be careful when we go home_," Alex commented to Bobby. "_What if he shows up at your place?"_

"_Why would he?"_ Bobby questioned. "_He barely had two words to say to me. He probably can't wait to be my boss again so that he can belittle and degrade everything I say."_

"_True," _she agreed as she leaned into him.

"_Well,_ _I don't have to worry about him going to _my_ place_," I asserted.

"_Maybe _we_ should go to your place then,"_ Liz suggested. _"Because it's not out of the realm to think he might stop by my house."_

"_I don't think so, sweetheart. I won't mind it at all if he shows up on your doorstep, as long as I'm there with you."_

"_Where else would you be?_" she asked me with a smile.

"_You know, I'm tired of worrying about Ross_," Alex said in annoyance.

"_You're not giving up, are you_?"

"_No, but you know…we've got cases to solve. I'm not going to let him walk in and disrupt the flow just because he's got visions of hitting the rewind button. And this bit tonight, acting all smug because he thinks he's caught me in some kind of scandal? That's just…"_

"_Petty?"_ Liz supplied. "_Juvenile?"_

"_Prickish,_" I corrected.

"_Is that a word_?" Alex asked me, now with a grin on her face.

"_It is,"_ Bobby assured her. "_It's defined as one who acts like or assumes the characteristics of Danny Ross."_

"_It's in the dictionary,"_ I added with a nod.

"_Yeah, well, he can be prickish all he wants. Tomorrow, you two are going to narrow the search for FBK while I help Wyatt and Yuille get the truth out of the slippery twin."_

"_You really think the one took the place of the other and had the husband killed? Why would she do that?"_

"_I don't know. Maybe he was getting suspicious."_

"_No, I mean why take over her sister's life."_

"_She wanted what her sister had,"_ Bobby answered for Alex. "_Sibling rivalry at its worst."_

"_Makes me glad I'm not a twin," _I mused. "_You know, you'd think someone would've noticed."_

"_You mean like her husband? That's probably why she killed him."_

"_Yeah, but how long have they been married? And when do you think they made the switch?"_

"_All good questions_," Alex agreed. "_And that's what I'm going to find out tomorrow."_

"_This'll be another good case for the press_," Bobby pointed out. "_It's movie material. The press will eat it up."_

"_Don't remind me."_

That was last night.

This morning, Bobby and I were sitting in a conference room, entrenched in the world of Facebook. We'd pestered CCS until they kicked us out, promising to call if they found anything of interest, so for now we were taking it upon ourselves to do a little electronic legwork.

We'd both arrived at 1PP around nine o'clock this morning, the later hour being our only concession to the fact that it was the weekend.

While we worked in here, Alex was locked in her office, waiting on Wyatt and Yuille to show up so that they could begin the interrogation on Marion Black.

"Their whole lives are on here," Bobby muttered. "High school, activities, hometown..."

"Everybody wants to feel important," I replied. "Like they think people actually care what they're having for breakfast, or what movie they watched last week. It's self-aggrandizing and narcissistic."

I felt Bobby's eyes on me so I looked up and met his gaze.

"What?" I asked with a shrug.

"Nothing," he said with a smirk that reminded me of Alex.

And since I was thinking about her…

"So did you get her a ring?"

I still found it hard to believe that the two of them were going to get married. I mean, of course, I can't imagine two people better suited for a life-long commitment, but still…

"Alex?"

"Unless you asked some other woman to marry you. And you know, if you did, then you might want to start wearing a bullet-proof vest."

"Ha ha," he replied smartly. "And no, I haven't gotten a ring yet. I didn't exactly plan on asking."

"You asked on a whim?" I asked in surprise. "What, the ten years you've been in love with her didn't give you enough time to plan it out?"

"I don't mean like that. I mean, I just didn't think she'd want to be married again. You know her. She's pretty independent. And her marriage to Joe wasn't exactly story book."

He trailed off for a moment as something on a printout captured his attention, and then he flipped to the next page and continued.

"So anyway, she mentioned that if it wasn't for our jobs, she'd want to be married to me, so I asked."

"Sounds like you really swept her off her feet," I said wryly.

"I'm going to do it again when I get the ring."

"You mean after Moran signs on the dotted line?"

"Yeah, assuming he does."

"You think he won't?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

He thought about it for a minute and then added, "But if he doesn't, then he doesn't. It won't really change anything for us. I mean, it would make it easier, but either way, we'll still be together, married or not."

"So maybe you should go ahead and get a ring."

"But if he doesn't sign, she won't be able to wear it."

"Sure she can. People will just think it's from me."

"Uh huh," he said, narrowing his eyes at me. "Brilliant idea. You're just as off-limits as I am, remember? Besides, I'm not sure I like everyone talking about the two of you sleeping together."

"Afraid she's going to start calling out my name instead of yours?" I joked.

"Not remotely," he replied with a grin. "I just think it's inappropriate for people to be discussing her sex life at all."

"She's in the public eye. With today's media, that means everything about her life is fair game. In fact, you know, you two might need to start being a little more careful in your off-hours. It wouldn't be unheard of for some eager young reporter to try to get the skinny on what Captain Eames does in her down time."

He nodded thoughtfully and said, "Yeah, you're right. I didn't really think of that."

I shifted my focus back to the computer in front of me. I had Kaleigh Marquez's Facebook page up and I was clicking on each of her friends, one at a time, and glancing over their walls.

"Hey…the fish cells," I said suddenly. "Kaleigh?"

Bobby tossed down his papers and reached for the lab report.

"Um…yeah. Why?"

"She's got a friend, Jared Thomas. And guess what he said he did last week?"

"Went fishing?" he asked hopefully.

"Uh huh," I replied, turning the screen around. "Look, he even posted a picture of his catch."

"When?"

"Last Friday morning…and hey, listen to his next post. _Throwin' my hat all up in the shit tonight, so look out bitches._"

"What?"

"I don't know, but _tonight_ would've been Friday night, when Kaleigh was killed. And it's the same day he went fishing…"

"We need to pick him up."

"I'm pulling him up now," I said as I switched screens and entered the boy's information into the database.

"He's not friends with any of the other girls though," he muttered as I skimmed the records in search of the right Jared Thomas.

"Friends of friends?" I suggested. "I don't know, but let's ask him. Hey, this is him."

I flipped the computer around again, showing Bobby the DMV photo of Jared Michael Thomas, age twenty-one and a resident of Long Island.

"No record?"

"Nope."

"So…he goes from nothing to murder? Hey, read off his list of friends."

"There's like…eight hundred."

"Males only," he amended. "We know he's not on our victims' lists."

"What are we looking for?"

"Like you said. Friends of friends," he said. His phone started buzzing, so he pulled it out and looked at the display and then told me, "It's CCS."

I waited while he talked with the techie, using Bobby's print-out of Samantha's friend list and comparing it to Jared's friend list.

No hits.

Not one.

"Send it to me as soon as you can," Bobby was saying as he finished his call.

"What is it?" I asked him.

"They found a post with instructions on how to eradicate finger prints."

"Seriously? Where? How can we find the guy who posted it?"

"They're trying to trace the IP now, but he said something about it having bounced through six different countries…anyway, get this. The post has over two hundred thousand hits so far."

"Oh, that's great. Let's go get 'em," I said, rolling my eyes in frustration.

"They're monitoring it now, so they can keep track of future hits," he said with a nod. "But the post went up last Tuesday."

"The day before the first murder."

"Right. Scott's sending me the list of comments related to the post."

"And the post explicitly talked about battery acid?"

"Uh huh. And using a knife first. I'm telling you…this is where our killers got their initial information."

"But why? I'm not getting the purpose of the murders."

"Let's go find Jared Thomas and see what he has to say for himself."

We left the conference room and went to find Alex. She wasn't in her office, which probably meant she was watching the interrogation of Marion Black, so we headed for the observation rooms.

Just before we went in, Bobby stopped me.

"You're right. I'm going to get a ring whether Moran signs or not. She can't wear it when she's at work, but…she needs to have one. And I need to ask her the right way."

He made the statement in an confident tone, but when he finished he looked at me expectantly.

"Are you waiting for me to tell you if that's the right thing to do?"

"You're my partner," he said with a shrug. "Back me up."

"You're exactly right. Get the ring, take her out for some fancy dinner, and knock her socks off."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Just do me a favor and keep an eye out for those reporters, okay?"

He nodded and then we went inside the observation room where Alex stood watching through the glass.

"Any luck yet?" Bobby asked her as we stepped in and closed the door behind us.

"They're just getting warmed up," she said, keeping her eyes on the suspect. "Is it just me, or does she look cold?"

"It's not just you," I answered. "What's your guess? Did she steal Martha's whole life, or just the end of it?"

"Just the end," Alex answered. "I think she swooped in when Martha called her, crying about her cheating husband."

"So good twin, evil twin?" I posed.

"I'm thinking evil twin, dead twin," Bobby corrected.

"You think Martha's dead?" Alex asked, turning around to look at us.

"Uh huh. Don't you?"

"Probably," she agreed.

"Wait, where are you getting that from?" I asked.

"Call it a hunch. Did they pull the sister's financial activity?"

"Yeah. Slow and suspicious over the past two weeks. Lulls broken up by periods of rash spending."

"Like someone trying to make it look like someone else is alive and well," Bobby said, looking at me pointedly.

"Or somebody who doesn't get out much," I countered.

"Want to bet on it?"

"What are the stakes?" I replied challengingly.

"Boys," Alex admonished. "Are you in here for a reason or did you just want to flex your muscles in front of me?"

"I can flex if you want, Boss," I joked.

"We're here for a reason," Bobby corrected. "Logan found a friend of Kaleigh, a guy who was fishing on the day she was killed."

"And?"

"And she was the one with fish guts on her fingertips," I clarified.

"Does he have a sheet?"

"No, he's clean. But he made mention of _look out bitches_ in his Friday post."

"What about afterward?"

"Nothing."

"And none of the friends match up to the other girls' lists?"

"Nope."

"Okay, go get him," she said. "Nothing official, just ask him down for a chat."

"We know how to play nice," I assured her.

"I know you _know_," she replied with a smile. "It's just getting you to _do_ it that's the challenge."

"We'll be nice," Bobby promised. "Because right now, he's all we've got, so we're hoping he'll accidentally give up something that'll shed light on the others."

We started to leave, but since Alex was standing there, chomping at the bit to jump in on Yuille and Wyatt's meandering interrogation, I stopped and said, "Why don't you go in there and show them how it's done, Boss?"

"Because," she answered vaguely, her eyes once again focused on the activity in the other room.

I raised my eyebrow at Bobby, but then she finally spoke again.

"They need this," she explained. "They think they let me down on this case, and they need their confidence back. If I go in there, it'll tell them that I don't trust them to get the job done. So I'm going to watch and wait…they'll get it."

See what I mean?

She's a great boss.

And Ross doesn't have a damn thing on her, so he's going to need to pull one hell of a rabbit out of his hat if he thinks he's going to steal her office.

TBC...


	21. Chapter 21

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"<em><strong>You're wasting my time. Why don't you try again when you have a little more evidence?"<strong>_

"_**Which means there's more evidence to be had,"**_ Yuille stated confidently. _**"Right?"**_

"_**Wrong. It just means you don't have squat, Junior. So let's call it a day."**_

"_**Let's not," **_Yuille replied as he scooted a chair closer to Marion and then sat in it backwards, propping his arms on the back of it.

He almost reminded me of Bobby, the way he was using his physical presence as part of the interrogation, and I was glad to see that my suggestion had paid off.

He'd obviously been watching and learning from Bobby.

_Now if only I could get his ex-girlfriend off my back._

Maas called me earlier to apologize once again about the incident with Ross last night, and he'd mentioned to me that his _friend_ had offered to file a slander suit on my behalf.

"_You think it'll work?"_

"_Traci seems to think so. And she's a lawyer, so…I don't know. I guess she knows about this kind of stuff. It can't hurt."_

"_Okay, although I think my way of dealing with her might have been a little more fun," _I joked.

He laughed and then fell quiet again and said, "_Alex, really…I can't believe I didn't check the peephole. And I just…I mean, who answers the door in a pair of boxers? I can't believe I did that."_

"_It's fine," _I assured him._ "Just…next time put something on first because it might be me who's knocking."_

I knew he felt bad about it, but really, it was so much better than if Ross had run into me and Bobby somewhere.

_That_ would've been difficult to explain away.

This, all we had to do was state the reasons as to why Maas was at my apartment.

And Moran knows about his impending divorce, and the fact that Maas has been living in a hotel, so he'd completely buy into the fact that I loaned him my place while I was housesitting.

So yeah, it could've been a whole lot worse.

What if Ross showed up while Bobby and I were clearing out the little bit of my remaining personal items? That's what we'd planned on doing later today, although now I was going have to go over there by myself.

I couldn't risk having him show up again.

It was kind of odd that he wanted to talk to me urgently enough to show up at my apartment late at night, and yet here it was almost noon the next day and he still hadn't called or come by the office.

Had he changed his mind about whatever it was he wanted to say?

Or was he coming over there to spy on me…to see what I was up to in my off hours?

He knows Logan is dating Liz, but would he still think there was something to that rumor about me and him?

Probably.

Liz told me that Ross referred to Logan as cheating.

What would make him think that, I don't know. He doesn't know much about Logan, but I guess after walking in on that hug, he probably thinks he's right.

Logan had caught me off guard with that.

And not because he doesn't hug me, because he does from time to time, but just not normally at work.

But apparently the news that Bobby and I might get married made him forget about protocol.

And I don't blame him for that.

I'm pretty damn excited myself, and I never thought I'd say that. I honestly never considered wanting to be married again, and yet now that it's a very real possibility, hinging on Moran's decision, I find myself thinking about it at the most unsuitable times.

_Like now, when I'm supposed to be paying attention to an interrogation_, I thought, chastising myself.

"_**How long have you lived in Michigan?" **_Wyatt was asking as I refocused on the suspect and my two detectives.

"_**Probably since before you were born."**_

"_**When did you come to New York?" **_

"_**Which time?"**_

Wyatt looked at Yuille and shrugged casually, and I liked how they were trying to play off of each other.

"_**Any time. Pick one. Hell, pick three. We've got time."**_

Good.

This latest tact seemed like it might get her to talk. She looked amicable enough at the moment.

For the past three hours, she'd been sticking with one word answers that weren't getting them anywhere, but maybe now they had something going.

Logan was right…I desperately wanted to go in there and bring the hammer down, but I also really needed for both of them to get back on their game.

This whole twin mix-up had shaken their confidence, and since it was at a time when I was facing down a firing squad on a daily basis, they were feeling even worse about their perceived failure.

"_**1962,"**_ she said with a cocky smile. "_**And then again in '63. Let's see…1968…"**_

"_**How about this century?" **_Yuille posed. _**"Was it last week? Or three weeks ago? Or maybe a few years ago?"**_

"_**At what point did you decide that you wanted your sister's husband?"**_ Wyatt added, just as she settled her gaze on Yuille.

She shifted uncomfortably for a moment and then plastered on a smile.

"_**Were you jealous of her?"**_ he continued. "_**She was married to a successful, well-respected man, and you were all alone."**_

"_**Did she taunt you with tales of her life?"**_ Yuille added. _**"I bet it just drove you crazy, didn't it?"**_

"_**George was a horrid, little man. I told my sister to stay away from him, but she never listened to me. That's one reason why I left and didn't ever come back for a visit because I couldn't stand to be in the same room with that man. I'm happy to say that despite their long marriage, I didn't have anything to do with him." **_

"_**You mean other than killing him."**_

"_**I did no such thing."**_

"_**No, that's right. You had him killed. You conspired with Misty Hahn."**_

"_**I conspired with a hooker," **_Marion stated._** "Right, because I routinely associate with that type of…filth."**_

"_**Routinely? Probably not. But you did this time because you found out George had a standing appointment with her, right? And that Misty was charging him a weekly fee to keep it under her hat."**_

"_**Martha told me about it. He was addicted to sex, you know. He was a perverted miscreant."**_

Finally.

At least she was going to admit that she and her sister knew about Misty's relationship with the judge.

"_**What did she have to say about it?"**_

"_**What do you think? She found out that her husband was being blackmailed by a prostitute! She was furious!"**_

"_**So that's why you came to New York this time. You wanted to help her deal with George."**_

"_**No. I came to New York after he was killed to help her through her grief."**_

My phone buzzed and I paused for a minute, almost not wanting to look since I was expecting a call from Moran or Zaring at any moment because surely Ross had already started spreading the rumor about me and Stanley.

But it wasn't either of them.

It was Bobby.

"Coconut," he said when I answered.

"Hawaii," I replied playfully, relieved that it was him.

"What?"

"Aren't we playing a word association game?"

"No," he said on a chuckle. "But last night, you said Liz made a good catch. Something about coconut lotion."

"She smelled it on Misty Hahn," I said, immediately shifting gears back to the serious. "It was on her neck as though it was transferred there from her killer's hands."

"I smelled it on Martha Schuler when I made the notification, the night Judge Schuler died."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. It just clicked with me."

"Wait, where are you?"

"We're parked outside Jared's apartment, waiting for him to come home. Wyatt and Yuille still working Marion over?"

"Uh huh. But if you smelled the lotion that night…you know, I'm not sure if that helps. Maybe both women use it."

"Or Marion does and she was already posing as Martha."

"Or Martha does, and we don't have Marion," I said, the idea suddenly occurring to me. "How the hell are we supposed to know for sure which one we've got when there aren't any prints on file?"

"You think Martha only pretended to be Marion because she got caught?"

"It's possible. I mean, we checked out the twin story and it was authenticated. And the person we brought in had ID that showed Marion's information, so we had to let her go. Besides, Marion's credit card records started showing purchases in New York about the same time that Martha's activity stopped."

"How are you going to prove who you have?"

"I don't know, but if we don't, we'll never get a conviction. There will always be reasonable doubt that we've got the wrong damn twin."

"You need to find the other one."

"Yeah, but if our theory's right, and the other one's dead…"

"You've searched the judge's property?"

"Well, yeah, but for evidence, not corpses."

"Get the dogs out there," he said firmly. And then he added, "I mean…ma'am, you might want to send some cadaver dogs out there."

"You're going to ma'am me?" I asked him in amusement.

"Well, that's probably better than giving my captain an order."

"You were giving me a suggestion. And my name's not Ross. I don't mind when my detectives have good ideas."

"You're damn right your name's not Ross," he replied quickly. "Give it another month and maybe…"

"Uh huh," I said with a smile.

_Maybe by then it'll be Goren_.

"Uh huh?" he questioned. "So you haven't changed your mind?"

"Are you kidding me? You're not getting off that easily."

He laughed out loud and then said, "You know, I think I've been hanging around Logan too much because I almost said something…"

"Yeah, don't forget I can read your mind," I joked, knowing exactly what he'd been about to say.

And he can blame it on Logan if he wants to, but Bobby's mind is just as dirty.

"Sorry, Captain," he said without remorse.

"Yeah, yeah," I deflected. "I've got to run. Text me when you're on your way with Jared Thomas."

I hung up with him and then knocked on the window.

"_**You'd better go, boys. The boss is tugging on your leash,"**_ Marion said smugly.

They both wisely refrained from responding, and instead left the interrogation room and joined me in the observation room.

"I know," Yuille said, shaking his head. "We're not getting it done."

"You're doing fine," I told him. "We just need to take a step back and regroup. Listen, Goren said he smelled coconut lotion the night he gave the notification to the judge's widow. Now it might've been Martha or maybe it was Marion, I don't know, but either way, I think it's the _same_ woman, and I'm pretty sure that woman in there is our killer. We just need to know whose name to put on the formal charges."

"So wait, now you think this might be Martha?"

"Wyatt, I have absolutely no idea," I admitted. "But we need to find a way to distinguish one from the other. We need to find that other twin. I want you two to get with the K-9 unit and go back to the property."

"You think she's dead?"

"Maybe. It's a place to start."

"How long can we hold the murdering granny in there?" Yuille asked in annoyance.

"We can stall the arraignment until Monday. But we need to know which name to use or we're going to look like a bunch of idiots."

"Hey, what about hospital records?" Wyatt asked suddenly. "If one of them had a surgery or something, we can use that to definitively make an ID, right?"

"Uh huh," I agreed with an enthusiastic nod. "Great idea. Order those, head out to the property, and hopefully by the time you get back, you'll have the records."

"Yes, ma'am," they both said immediately.

"I hope you didn't have plans for the weekend."

"Oh, yeah," Yuille said. "Big plans. We're going to sort out this mess and make our captain look good, right, Wyatt?"

"That's right," Wyatt agreed quickly. "That guy Ross won't have a leg to stand on when he meets with Moran on Monday."

"You know about that meeting?" I asked him curiously.

I mean, I'm familiar with the department rumor mill, but still…

"Um…yes, ma'am," Yuille said. "It's…um…everybody knows about it."

"Everybody. Great."

"Don't worry about a thing, Captain," Wyatt said. "You've got our backs…we've got yours."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"So, I'll go with you if you want."<p>

"Am I going somewhere?"

"When you go buy the ring," Logan clarified.

We were still sitting outside of the apartment of Jared Thomas. A helpful neighbor had mentioned that Jared was due back any time, but that was more than three hours ago, so I was starting to wonder if we were being played.

I was also starting to get restless.

And okay, so _starting_ isn't exactly accurate.

I've been restless since Logan put the car into park.

"Why, are you thinking about doing some jewelry shopping, too?"

"What? No. No, it's not that. It's…well, okay. Maybe."

"Really?" I asked in surprise.

He sighed heavily and kept his focus on the apartment building across the street.

"I have no idea. She doesn't want to get married, and until last month I would've said that same thing, but now I'm not so sure. And maybe I just want to be a little more prepared if the timing ever feels right."

"More prepared than me you mean?" I asked on a laugh. "Learning from my mistakes, huh? Yeah, okay."

Because honestly, I could use the moral support.

And the additional opinion.

"So what do you think?" he asked after another minute.

"About you and Liz?"

"Yeah. I mean, am I stupid to even consider it?"

"If you're considering it because Ross is back and you want to shove it in his face, then yes. If it's because you love her so much that you can't imagine your life without her, then no."

"It's the second thing," he said quickly.

"Good. I figured."

"Don't say anything though, okay?"

"Who would I tell?'

He looked at me incredulously and rolled his eyes.

"Really?"

"Okay, other than Alex," I amended.

"Uh huh. And she probably already knows," he mumbled.

"How? You just told me."

"Yeah, but now _you_ know, which means that somehow _she_ knows."

"We're not that good," I said, chuckling at his exaggeration. "But even if…oh, hey. There he is."

I pointed through the windshield at Jared Thomas as he walked down the sidewalk.

He appeared confident and relaxed.

"Let's let him get inside," I suggested as we watched him go in the building. "Maybe he'll invite us in."

"What if the neighbor tips him off?"

"I hope you wore your running shoes," I told him as we got out of the car.

Together we crossed the street, keeping an eye on the front door just in case Jared decided to come running back out. But to me, he'd seemed to cool. He didn't appear to be a man on the lookout for cops.

Jared's apartment was on the first floor so after giving him ample time to get inside, we went into the lobby and down the hall to his apartment.

"I'll be his friend," I said to Logan just before he knocked. "Push him to me, okay?"

"It'll be like shooting fish in a barrel," he replied. He knocked loudly and then paused briefly before banging on the door again. "Open up, Mr. Thomas!"

I heard the deadbolt slide open from the inside and after another moment, the door cracked open.

"What do you want?"

"NYPD," Logan barked. "Open the door."

"You got a warrant or something?"

I nudged Logan out of the way and showed Jared my badge.

"Detective Goren with Major Case," I said quietly. "We'd just like to ask you a couple of questions. Do you have a minute?"

"Not really…um…Major Case?"

"That's right," Logan answered. "We do the big stuff, like homicides."

"Homicide?"

"That's just one of the many types of cases we investigate," I explained. "Now if we could just talk to you briefly…"

"Hey, Goren, take off the kid gloves, will you?" Logan interrupted. Then he looked at Jared and said, "You know Kaleigh Marquez, right?"

Jared visibly paled at the mention of the girl's name, and at the same time, he got more belligerent.

"I don't have to talk to you guys unless you've got a warrant, okay?"

"Come on, Jared. Let us in," I coaxed. "Look, if you didn't do anything, then we're in and out. If you refuse to let us in, we'll just stand right here while the ADA brings us a search warrant."

"Based on what? You'll never get a warrant," he shouted as he attempted to slam the door closed.

But Logan jammed the toe of his shoe into the crack just in time, stopping the motion. Then he put his left hand on the door, shoving it open as far as the chain would allow, and he looked at me with a smile.

"What's that smell, Goren?" he asked, and then he turned back to Jared, who was by this point throwing all of his weight against the door in an effort to close it.

"He's really good at smells," Logan continued conspiratorially. "Listen to this."

"Fish," I stated. "Baked maybe, but more likely it was fried on the stove. Probably a few days ago."

"Uh huh," Logan said with a nod. "And you know what _that_ smells like?"

"Probable cause," I said. "Sorry, Jared. Now we don't need a warrant, so just open the door."

"Fish is probable cause? No way in hell, man. I'm not opening the door."

"You might want to rethink that," I told him. "Because right now, my partner's not even trying. You really want to have to pay for a new door, on top of whatever other trouble you're about to be in?"

"I didn't do _nothing_," Jared insisted.

"You're doing a great job of killing the English language," I corrected. "But if that's the only killing you've been doing, we'll get out of your hair soon enough."

Jared ignored me and continued ramming his body into the door, trying to dislodge Logan.

"Okay, I'm going to count to three," I warned him.

Because I really didn't want to have to break the door down.

Things like that never play well in the press, and what if by some chance we're wrong about Jared?

What if he's just some little punk who likes to smack-talk on Facebook and was coincidentally a friend of one of the victims?

_And_ whose apartment smells like burnt fish?

"One," I began. Logan kept his foot in place but moved slightly to one side so that I could get my shoulder against the door, too. "Two."

"Alright! Shit…just…wait, okay? You're gonna have to move your foot so I can close the door enough to get the chain off."

"You screw me and I'm pulling my piece," Logan threatened.

But Jared made good on his word.

Logan moved his foot, and Jared closed the door fully before releasing the chain and allowing us entry into his apartment.

"What the hell was that about, Jared?" Logan asked as he backed Jared up in the tiny entryway of the apartment. I moved past them and started wandering around, looking at everything that was in plain sight.

"You're asking _me_? Shit, I didn't even see your badge! You could be some kind of goombah for all I know."

"You saw _his_ badge," Logan fired back, keeping Jared occupied while I made the rounds. "You accusing him of being a dirty cop?"

"What? No!"

"When did you cook the fish, Jared?" I asked while Logan continued to pin him with a steely gaze.

"Monday," he answered immediately.

"You need to get better ventilation in here. This place still reeks," I remarked. "So what kind?"

"What kind what?"

"What kind of fish?"

"Striped bass."

"You caught it yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Really?" I asked, pausing in my perusal. "Because you know the season doesn't start until mid-March, right?"

"You want to write me a ticket for illegal fishing?"

"No, I want to know if you've got any leftovers."

"Of the fish?"

"Yeah. It's the one you caught a week ago Friday, right? Or have you been fishing again since then?"

Jared glanced nervously back and forth between Logan and me, and he was clearly confused as to my line of questioning.

"It's um…yeah, it's that one. I don't get to go very often."

"So you have leftovers?"

"Yeah. In the fridge."

"Good," I answered, flashing him a smile. Then I pointed at the refrigerator and asked, "Do you mind?"

"You…want to eat my…fish?"

I shrugged at him and so he said, "Okay. Knock yourself out."

Then he seemed to get some of his confidence back because he eased a step away from Logan and added, "Shit, I thought you guys were supposed to like doughnuts. What's with the fish obsession?"

"Oh, he's not going to eat it," Logan told him, clearly having picked up on where I was going.

Jared's smile faltered and he furrowed his brow as he watched me poke through the foil-wrapped lumps in the refrigerator until I found the right one.

"Then what's he gonna…"

"DNA," I told him.

"Fish DNA?"

"It's just as unique as human DNA," Logan explained. "And guess who has fish DNA on her?"

"Which, by the way, you never even asked why we questioned if you're friends with Kaleigh Marquez. You know, if it's me, and two cops come to my door, I'm going to ask what it's all about."

"But you already know, don't you?" Logan finished. "You know we're here about Kaleigh. And the ME found traces of fish on her fingertips, mixed in with the battery acid."

"Which spells bad news for you, Jared," I concluded as I put the fish into a Ziploc baggie.

"Uh huh," Logan said as he turned him around so that he was face-first against the wall. "It means you should've cleaned your knife before you cut up that poor girl's fingertips."

"Wait, I...just wait!"

"Jared Thomas, you're under arrest for the murder of Kaleigh Marquez," Logan stated, and then he finished reading him his rights while I called for CSU to come to the apartment to finish processing everything.

"And as soon as we can pin the other five on you, we'll add those charges, too," I said when Logan finished.

"Just wait!" he shouted again. "I didn't kill those girls!"

"The _other_ ones?" I clarified. "Because you _did_ kill Kaleigh."

"It was…it wasn't supposed to go like this," he said in frustration. "I did everything right!"

I glanced at Logan and he turned Jared around so that he was facing us.

"What do you mean by that? How did you do everything right?"

"I think maybe I need a lawyer."

"Big mistake," Logan told him. "Once you call a lawyer, we can't help you."

"You don't want to help me anyway!"

"Right now, we've got six dead girls and only one suspect. It'll save us a hell of a lot of legwork if we just charge you with all six."

"You can't do that!"

"You just keep telling yourself that, Jared. I bet you never thought we'd be standing in your apartment with a conviction sealed up in that bag over there, either, did you?"

"Where'd you get the idea to do it?" I jumped in. "Someone else you met online?"

And then the way he'd phrased his post on Friday popped into my head.

"Throwing your hat in," I added. "Like in a ring? Is it some kind competition?"

Peripherally, I could see Logan look at me sharply, but I kept my focus on Jared, watching for his tells.

He didn't disappoint me.

His eyes went up and to the left briefly before flittering back to mine.

"I wonder how much trouble you'll get into for questioning me after I asked for a lawyer," he said evenly.

"Not nearly as much as you'll be in for multiple homicides," I retorted.

A few minutes later, a couple of uniformed officers showed up and we handed Jared off to them for transport to 1PP.

One down, five to go.

"A competition?" Logan said quietly to me after they were gone.

"It was a guess, but did you see his face?"

"Uh huh. But you know what that means."

"It means he might not have any idea who the other killers are," I said with a nod. "And depending on the prize, there might be more dead girls before we can put a stop to it."

TBC...


	23. Chapter 23

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>"Don't you have a life, Doc?"<p>

I looked up from the body of the last Jane Doe in Mike's case and saw Sarah standing in the doorway.

"No, but I'm old. What's your excuse?"

"I guess Detective Logan is still working," she remarked with a smile.

Sarah started working at the morgue a few months ago, but just recently her shifts started coinciding with mine.

She's a hard worker and I don't mind that she seems to look up to me.

"And I guess you kicked out the cheating boyfriend," I replied without answering her question.

"Is that a yes?"

I'm not sure why she was so dead set on pinning me down to admitting my relationship with Mike, but whatever.

It's not a secret.

In fact, now that Danny's come back to life, I'm thinking about hijacking one of Alex's press conferences and laying Mike out across the podium.

"Yes, he's still working," I admitted as I glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight. Where does the time go? "He picked up a suspect earlier today, so I guess they probably have him in the interrogation room.

"So you two really are a thing, huh?" she asked thoughtfully. I raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't respond, so she said, "Oh come on, Doc. Just admit it."

"You should be a detective," I joked. "You deduced that we're together just because I know he's working tonight and because he was supposedly checking me out at a crime scene?"

"No," she answered. "I figured it out because of the look on your face any time I mention his name."

"Oh," I replied, unable to formulate any larger words due to my surprise at her statement.

And here I thought I was exempt from doing things so blatantly juvenile as mooning over a boy.

"Not that I blame you or anything. I mean, if I were the one with the insanely hot boyfriend, I'd be smiling all the time, too. So have you ever watched him when he's interrogating a suspect? I bet he's pretty sexy when he plays the bad cop, isn't he?"

"Sarah," I chastised, laughing as I shook my head.

"His partner, too," she continued.

"Yeah, well you'd better not say that too loudly. He's definitely spoken for."

"Detective Goren? Really?"

"Really. And he, like Logan, is much too old for you. So instead of hanging out in the morgue on a Saturday night, you should be out having some fun."

"You, too," she answered hard-headedly. "I'll leave when you do."

I paused and looked down at the Jane Doe again, wishing desperately that I could find something that would give her a name.

But wishing it didn't make it so.

"Come on, let's get out of here. Go over to 1PP and watch him in action," she encouraged. Then she grinned at me and added, "Then maybe later he can play bad cop with you."

"I don't need your help with my sex life, thank you very much," I told her, still chuckling at her exuberance as I took off my gloves.

"So you're admitting that you have one…now we're getting to the good stuff," she replied with a victorious expression on her face. "I bet he's incredible, isn't he? Come on, let me live vicariously through you."

"I don't kiss and tell," I told her. "So is it just Logan or do you have a thing for cops?"

"Something about that level of confidence," she said thoughtfully. "You know, not just a cop, but a detective."

"I get that," I agreed as I waved in another assistant to have him take care of the body. "Just don't let the badge fool you. It doesn't always make the man a keeper."

"Ah…now you mean Captain Ross, right? I heard about that."

"_Captain_ Ross?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at her. "He's not anything right now, so you don't have to call him that. And yeah, he'd be a good example."

"So it's true that you and he had a thing."

"Past tense, yes."

"And he wants it to be present tense," she stated. When I gave her a questioning look, she added, "Luke said he saw the two of you kissing the other day."

"Oh, that's great," I said in annoyance. "Tell me that information isn't floating around the entire morgue."

"Not really. Mostly the talk is just surprise that Ross is back more so than the fact that he kissed you. Was there something to that?"

"It wasn't anything," I said firmly. "A misunderstanding, I guess."

"So he's not competing to take Logan's place?"

"Oh, he is. But as far as I'm concerned, there's no competition."

Sarah and I walked out of the morgue and then we went our separate ways. Well, after she got in her parting instructions.

"I need details tomorrow," she told me firmly.

"About what?"

She flashed me a mischievous smile and clarified, "Logan. Bad cop."

"Go home," I told her, waving her off as I shook my head.

I knew she was just trying to get me to smile again, after bringing up the fact that my assistants were speculating on my personal life. For years, I've mostly managed to keep my personal life out of the office, and even with this serious affair I have going on with Mike, I was still keeping it a secret, and yet Ross had strolled in and put me at the top of the gossip agenda.

One more reason not to like him.

I got off on the eleventh floor and crossed the nearly-empty squad room. Mike was nowhere in sight, but since he hadn't texted me lately, I was pretty sure he was still here.

I knocked on Alex's office door, but it was closed and dark inside, so then I headed for the interrogation rooms.

I saw that the doors were closed on two of the rooms, and so I knocked lightly on the adjoining center observation room door, but that was when I heard Alex's voice through the door.

"Now? Are you kidding me?" she was saying, and then she opened the door and motioned for me to come in as she continued. "It's premature…no, sir…I want that, too, but I'm not going to…no, sir…I'm saying…okay. Yes, sir. I appreciate that."

"Maybe it's not such a good time," I said as she stabbed at the button on her phone to end the call and then let out a heavy sigh.

"It's fine," she answered. "Zaring's just…"

"Prickish?" I suggested wryly.

"Exactly," she replied with a smirk. "Okay, so not really. He's just overanxious for me to go on camera to say that our murderer's been caught, but he's not grasping the full scope of the situation yet."

"The pressure of politics," I remarked. "Yeah, let's save _prickish_ for Danny."

"Have you heard from him today?" she asked quickly.

"No. Just…no."

I wasn't going to start complaining to her about the rumor his actions had triggered. Not when she was currently dealing with her own issues.

"So which one is he anxious for?" I asked, since presently both interrogation rooms were in use.

Yuille and Wyatt had a woman in one room while Bobby and Mike had a young man in the other.

"Meet Jared Thomas," she said, nodding towards the room on the left. "Your assistant's catch of the additional substances helped them nab one of the killers. He's apparently a fisherman. Or at least he was on the day he killed Kaleigh Marquez."

"So he definitely did it?"

"He definitely did that murder," she elaborated. "But he's not in cahoots with the other killers. He doesn't know who they are or why they chose who they did or anything, really. That's why I don't want to go on camera yet. Catching this guy just means now the search is down to five. It doesn't mean that the search will go any faster."

"How long have they been in there with him?"

"Not long. His lawyer just got here about an hour ago," she said as she reached over to turn up the volume.

"_**Did she piss you off? Is that what happened? She was a hot girl, right? And you're just…you,"**_ Mike was saying as he moved closer to the suspect. Bobby was leaning against the wall behind the suspect and at the moment he seemed content to let Mike do the talking. _**"No way a girl like that would look at a guy like you, so you decided to make her look, right?"**_

_**"No."**_

_**"What, did she laugh at you or something? You saw her, all dolled up for a night out, and when you suggested that the two of you go somewhere together, she probably thought that was hilarious and so she…"**_

_**"No! It wasn't like that."**_

_**"Then tell us how it was, Jared,"**_ Bobby said quietly as he leaned down to get close to the suspect. "_**Why'd you pick her?"**_

_**"My client is not stipulating to guilt,"**_ the attorney interjected.

_**"We don't need him to stipulate,"**_ Mike said cockily. "_**We've got all the evidence we need. In fact, we're doing him a favor by talking to him because if it was up to me, I'd be home in bed with my girlfriend, but I've got a boss who says make a deal, so I gotta make a deal."**_

_**"What kind of deal?"**_ the lawyer asked.

_**"We need to know what prompted the murder,"**_ Bobby stated firmly. _**"Where'd you get the information, and who's running the competition, and what are the stakes? If you help us, we might be able to get you paroled before retirement age."**_

"Competition?" I asked Alex.

"That's what they think, yeah. Scary, huh?"

"Did they bring in his computer?"

"Wiped clean," she replied with a nod. "But the techies are looking at it anyway. They might be able to get something. He doesn't strike me as the computer genius type."

_**"I need to think, okay?"**_ Jared shouted suddenly. Then he turned to his lawyer and said, "_**Do I have to stay in here, or can we be done for tonight?"**_

_**"We can be done," **_he told him, then he looked at Mike and Bobby and said, "_**I'll be in touch when he's ready to talk."**_

_**"Don't wait too long, Jared. If we catch another one of your sick little friends then the deal's off the table."**_

I watched for another moment as the room cleared and then Alex clicked on the intercom for the other room so I turned around to see Wyatt and Yuille working on one of the twins.

"Which one is it?" I asked quietly.

"We're still trying to figure that out," she admitted.

"_**Was it an accident?"**_ Yuille was saying. "_**Because if it was…"**_

_**"If it was what?" **_the woman fired back. "_**You'll let me walk out of here? You think I was born yesterday?"**_

"She's kind of feisty, isn't she?" I commented.

"She killed her twin sister. I'm not sure feisty is the right word."

"The twin is dead?"

"You didn't get the body?"

"No. Jenkins must have made that run. When was she killed?"

"Oh, several days ago. Weeks, maybe even. But Wyatt and Yuille just found her a few hours ago. They took dogs out to the property."

"She buried her in the backyard?"

"Uh huh," she answered, her eyes still focused on the scene in the other room. I shifted my focus to Yuille as he leaned down and looked at the woman, using a very Bobby-like move.

_**"No, not yesterday. It was actually April 28**__**th**__**, 1948. But the question is, were you born at 10:22? Or 10:36?"  
><strong>_

The woman smiled and said, "_**Wouldn't you like to know?**_"

_**"So your defense is going to be that we don't know your true identity?"**_ Wyatt posed. "_**It doesn't matter. We still know you killed your sister and Misty Hahn, and you hired someone to kill Judge Schuler."**_

_**"Or…my sister arranged to kill George. Then she killed the hooker. And then she tried to kill me, at which point I defended myself."**_

_**"And a jury might actually believe that if your sister was the last one to die. But she's not. She's been dead longer than two days, which is when Misty Hahn was killed."**_

The woman laughed, as though she couldn't imagine a funnier situation, and then she rolled her eyes at Wyatt.

_**"Okay, fine. But good luck getting an indictment without a positive ID, on your suspect or on your victim."**_

"So no jewelry on the victim?" I asked Alex as I texted the ME on duty to find out the status of the body.

"No, nothing. And this one doesn't wear any either. The clothes seem to be from Martha's closet, but that doesn't really mean anything."

"Hospital records?"

"Nothing that helps us."

"And there aren't any other relatives or friends? No one who can identify her?" I asked, feeling probably only a small portion of what Yuille and Wyatt had been feeling for nearly a week now.

"I'm telling you…it's the perfect crime."

_**"You know what?"**_ Yuille said suddenly. _**"Forget it. I don't really care which one you are. We'll name both of you on the indictment. You can be co-conspirators with your dead twin."**_

"Will that work?" I asked as I focused on the woman, who seemed to have lost some of her confidence.

In fact, she opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again, as though Yuille had thrown her with his assertion.

"For this, it might," Alex answered. And then she murmured under her breath, "Keep going."

The door to the observation room opened, and in came Bobby and Mike.

I couldn't help but appreciate the smile that spread across Mike's face when he saw me, but before either man could say anything, Alex held up a finger and pointed at the glass.

"Watch," she said simply.

_**"That's right,"**_ Wyatt was saying as he nodded at his partner. "_**Co-conspirators. I mean, we can't say for sure if that body we found in your backyard is your twin. Maybe it's some other woman who looks eerily similar."**_

_**"And it's not like we can confirm her ID,"**_ Yuille added as he walked around behind her and then sat down close to her, on her left side. _**"So we'll just list you both as conspirators in the murder of a Jane Doe."**_

_**"Both of us,"**_ she repeated. _**"That'll never work."**_

_**"Maybe. Maybe not,"**_ Yuille said with a smile. Then he reached out and grabbed onto the woman's wrist, holding up her left hand for closer inspection. "_**But now, it looks like we only need to put your name on it, Martha."**_

"Martha?" Mike asked as he took a step closer to the glass. "How does he know that?"

Alex shushed him as Yuille continued.

_**"You know, my old girlfriend was married for a while. And even though it was months before I started dating her, she still couldn't get rid of the slight wedding ring imprint on her finger. One that looks just like this one."**_

_**"So I used to wear a ring…so what? You don't know it was a wedding ring."**_

_**"We've seen pictures, Martha,"**_ Wyatt said, getting in on the action. _**"Your sister randomly wore costume jewelry. You always wore three rings – the wedding band, an anniversary band, and the diamond engagement ring. I bet if we brought those rings in here, they'd fit this exact indentation."**_

"You have the rings?" I asked.

"Uh huh," Alex said as a smile spread across her face. Then she turned to look at the rest of us and said, "I guess something good came out of him sleeping with Alonzo, huh?"

_**"Okay, so now what?" **_Martha said. _**"You've caught me. You're going to put me in jail for the rest of my miserable life? Fine. It can't possibly be any worse than living with the judge."**_

"So it was the wife all along," Bobby said thoughtfully. Then he looked at Mike and said, "And didn't we bet on whether or not the twin was dead?"

"Yeah, okay," Mike said, rolling his eyes. "Beers on me the next time we go to Pete's."

"Which won't be tonight," Alex said as she clicked off the intercom. "I need to stay and make sure they get her statement."

"If it's okay with you, I'd like to head out," Mike said. "We'll pick up the trail again in the morning."

"No," she said, catching me by surprise until she added, "Pick it up at noon. You've been hard at it all week. Sleep in tomorrow morning."

"I like the way you think, Boss."

"Me, too," I said. "So, Mike…I think you said something about being home in bed with your girlfriend?"

"Oh, you heard that, huh?" he asked with a smile.

"Go," Alex encouraged. "You, too, Bobby."

He hesitated near the door, and I could almost hear the conversation going back and forth between them, even though the only words uttered were Alex's.

"I'll…um…yeah."

They looked at each other for a moment longer and then Bobby led the way out of the room.

"You need a ride?" Mike asked Bobby.

"No, I think I might look over those Facebook records some more."

"Didn't the boss just tell you to go home?" I asked with amusement.

"You think she'll punish me for working too much?"

"If you're lucky," Mike joked. "So…tomorrow at noon?"

"I'll be here," he agreed as he sat down at his desk. "And tomorrow night, we'll do Pete's."

We left Bobby in the squad room and went to the elevator where Mike immediately wrapped his arms around me.

"It's been such a long day…I can't tell you how happy it made me to find you in there with Alex," he said quietly.

"I was missing you," I admitted. "And my assistant encouraged me to go check out my insanely hot boyfriend in action."

"What?" he asked on a laugh.

"Yeah, she suggested that you probably look pretty sexy when you're doing your bad cop routine."

"Oh. Well…what's the verdict, Doc?"

"I need more evidence," I said suggestively, stealing a kiss just before the elevator doors opened. "So why don't you take me home and show me what you've got?"

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"You don't take orders very well."<p>

"Try me."

"I did. I told you to go home an hour ago."

"And instead I waited for the love of my life."

"Sucking up isn't going to get you out of trouble."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Uh huh. So lose the pants."

Bobby smiled as he reached for his belt and slowly undid the buckle.

We just got home about ten minutes ago.

Earlier, I spent half an hour listening while Wyatt and Yuille took Martha Schuler's confession, and then I'd left the observation room and found Bobby sitting at his desk.

"_What are you still doing here?_"

"_I'm comparing friend lists_," he'd answered.

"_Detective,_" I said firmly. "_I sent you home. It wasn't a request_."

"_We must have gotten our signals crossed_," he replied, barely containing a smile.

Because he and I had both known the moment he left the observation room that he wasn't leaving 1PP without me.

"_Uh huh. See if you can read my lips this time_," I said, putting my hands on his desk and leaning as close as I dared. "_Move your ass, Goren_."

"_Yes, ma'am_," he said, and then he'd glanced around the room briefly before pinning me with a smoldering gaze and saying in a low tone, "_You move your ass, too. I'll meet you at the corner."_

The corner was actually about four blocks away and the closest spot that we'd decided was acceptable for me to stop and pick him up. It was just too risky to meet in the parking garage any more.

"Any other directives you want me to follow, Captain?" Bobby asked me teasingly once his pants were history.

I took in the sight of him, rumpled and tired-looking and yet still so enticing, and it suddenly hit me really hard that he could be my husband.

One day very soon.

I remembered the feeling I had, back at the beginning of our undercover together…that night we prepped for the Marcovic case and Bobby slipped the wedding band on my finger.

_"Perfect fit,"_ he'd said as he smiled at me.

_"Well, now you just committed yourself to me. Love, honor, cherish…"_

_"The ring doesn't make me do that. I do that anyway."_

At the time, I'd been on an emotional roller coaster because we still hadn't admitted our feelings for each other, and as much as I'd loved hearing the words, it also hurt because I thought they were just for show.

But they weren't.

He really did love me that much.

He really _does_ love me that much.

"Maybe I should let Ross have his job back," I said suddenly.

"What? Why would you say that?"

"Because," I replied as I moved closer to him, sliding my arms around his waist and settling my cheek against the softness of his t-shirt. "If I'm the media liaison, then we can be together, with or without the new regs."

"No," he said firmly, squeezing me tightly against him. "You'd hate that job, and you know it. We're together anyway, Alex. You're not giving up your position just so that we can go public. I'd rather be in the closet with you for the rest of our lives, and have you happy and fulfilled at work as much as you are at home, than have you hate your job just so that we can put an official label on our relationship."

I guess deep down, I knew he'd feel that way, but I also didn't want him to think that my career is worth more to me than him.

I mean, I can always get another job.

"I'd give it all up for you. You know that."

"Of course I do. You already did, remember?"

"Funny…I was just thinking about that."

"The night I put the ring on your finger," he said knowingly as he began to move his hands over my back. "You don't know how badly I wanted for that to be real."

"I think I do, yes," I argued lightly.

I stepped back from him and grabbed onto the hem of his shirt, encouraging him to pull it off.

"And what I said," he continued once he stood in front of me wearing nothing at all. "I meant it. I still do. Love, honor and cherish…I've been doing it for ten years and I don't plan on stopping any time soon. So get that crazy idea about quitting out of your head, okay?"

"Okay."

"I mean, unless you want to. Would you rather work in the media department?" he asked as he started undoing the buttons on my blouse.

"Are you kidding me? And have to be on camera every day? No way," I said firmly. "But I'd do it for you."

"And I'd walk away from the NYPD for you, if that'll make our lives easier," he offered. "You know that. Hot dog vendor, remember? Bootleg DVDs…"

"How about if you keep on being the best detective in Major Case," I suggested, closing my eyes as he turned the simple process of getting me undressed into a sensual experience.

"And you?"

"I'll keep being the best captain the NYPD has ever seen. And pretty soon, they'll need us so much, they won't care what we're doing in our off-time."

"And what is that…exactly?" he asked, his voice now only a whisper as his fingers moved over my skin.

"That's up to you. You be the boss tonight," I told him as I opened my eyes and met his gaze. "Tell me what you want."

For quite some time, I lost myself in the moment, not thinking about our jobs or the cases…not thinking about much of anything at all except for how much I love him.

Afterwards, as I drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Bobby's arms, I idly wondered if I'd remembered to set the alarm, but then I decided that it didn't matter.

I don't need one with Bobby around because he's usually up well before it ever goes off.

Although even knowing that, I still wasn't expecting the four-thirty wake-up.

"I have to go look over the printouts," he said quietly and then he pressed a kiss against my cheek and eased out of the bed.

"At four-thirty?" I questioned, watching him as he pulled on a pair of boxers.

"You said I should tell you the next time a case wakes me up, so…"

"Okay, let's go."

"You can stay. I just…it's on my mind and…"

"Come on," I said, forcing the sleep from my brain as I got out from under the covers.

I grabbed Bobby's t-shirt from where he'd tossed it on the chair only a few hours ago, and I slipped it over my head.

And then we went into the kitchen and I put on a pot of coffee.

"So what's bugging you?" I asked as I joined him at the table. "Something specific or just an overall feeling?"

"I was thinking about that stolen car. It has to be near one of the friends of Samantha, don't you think?"

"You think it was stolen out of proximity? The killer lives near Madeline Reese?"

"And out of convenience," he said with a nod. "I mean, Jared's not a pro. I don't think any of these guys are. They're just following a pattern, one that was given to them."

"No one else stole a car," I pointed out.

"That's true. But Jared has a car. Maybe the others do, too."

"So the MO is to get the girl in the car, kill her somewhere, dump her body somewhere else and then go home and blog about it, only Samantha's killer doesn't have a car, so he stole one and then just left it behind instead of moving the body out of the car."

"That's what I'm thinking," he agreed. "This guy…the one who killed Samantha…I bet he snagged a car from his own neighborhood."

"Which means all we have to do is go through her friend list, and if your theory is right, one of them will live in Brighton Beach."

He shrugged and gave me a tired, apologetic smile.

"Okay, then," I continued. "Let's find him."

For more than an hour, we sat side by side at the kitchen table and trolled through the twelve hundred and thirty-two friends on the Facebook page of Samantha Wright.

And at two minutes after six, I found him.

"Bobby. Phillip Downey. He lists Brighton Beach as his hometown."

"Samantha was killed on Monday. What do his posts look like leading up to that time?"

I clicked on Phillip's wall and saw that the last post was from Monday morning.

"_Step aside_," I read aloud.

"That's it?"

"That's enough, isn't it? It fits with the competition theme."

"Unless we're forcing it," he suggested.

"I don't think so."

"Does he have a sheet?" he asked as I pulled up Phillip's name in the NYPD database.

"Yeah, check it out," I said when the information popped up. "Juvie record. And guess what's his crime of choice?"

"Boosting cars," Bobby answered with a grin as he read over my shoulder. "You think that's enough to get us a search warrant? He knew the girl, and the car was stolen from his neighborhood, and he's got a history of stealing cars…"

"I think so, but it's borderline. We'll have to wait until the sun comes up. If we get an ADA and a judge out of bed for this, it'll just piss them off."

"So…two hours," he said as he looked at the clock on the wall. "I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"It's such a hardship being with you," I teased. "What can we possibly do for two hours?"

"Not _that_," he said on a laugh. "I'm good, but I'm not Logan."

"You're not just good," I corrected, running my hand over his heavily stubbled cheek. "Besides, Logan was fueled by jealousy. That'll do wonders for a man's stamina."

"Yeah, well, I don't blame him for feeling the need to defy the laws of nature," he said. He got up from the chair and took me by the hand, pulling me up to my feet, and then together we went into the living room. "You know Ross kissed her, right?"

"What? No, I didn't know that. When?"

"Uh huh. Thursday, right there in the morgue. I almost wish Logan would've walked in on it. Then we wouldn't have to think about Ross trying to take your job, because he'd be dead for real."

He sat down in the recliner and pulled me onto his lap. He settled one hand across my legs and his other hand immediately began stroking over my hair.

This was about the most comfortable place in the world.

"I'm surprised Liz didn't kill him," I said, still thinking about the whole Logan-Ross-Liz mess.

I was having a hard time imagining what must have been going through Ross' head, to do such a thing.

Did he really think he only had to show up and Liz would come running back to him?

When did he get so…_arrogant_?

Okay, so he's always been arrogant, but now…now it was so much worse.

And maybe it was just because he was uncomfortable being back.

Maybe he was trying to reclaim his life quickly and efficiently in an effort to make people forget that he was ever gone…maybe even to help _him_ forget about everything that happened.

And now I sound like Bobby, trying to empathize with him.

The fact is that no matter what Ross' motivation, it's not okay for him to walk all over people, especially people who've done nothing except try to help him and honor his name.

"It's probably still a possibility," Bobby said, commenting on Liz's potential for murder. "I think he caught her off guard. I would imagine if he tries it again, he'll be losing an appendage of some sort."

I chuckled lightly and let my eyes fall closed as I relaxed fully against him.

"I don't think you should go public about Jared's arrest," he said after a few minutes. "Or Phillip's, if it turns out that we're right."

"Why not?"

"If the others don't realize anyone's getting caught, they won't take more evasive measures. We'll be able to track them eventually."

"But will it draw in more participants because it looks like the killers are getting away with it?"

He was quiet as he thought about my words, and then he said, "I guess it's your call, Captain."

"So my choices are do I make it harder to find four killers or do I make it tempting for more people to kill…"

"Or you can be the media liaison and let someone else make that decision," he added, and without even looking at him, I could tell he was smiling.

"Ross? No way. I'm going to decide by doing something he never would."

"What's that?"

"I'm going to trust my detectives working the case."

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>Alex instructed me to sleep in, but it doesn't always work like that.<p>

I mean, I _wanted_ to sleep longer.

And I was definitely relaxed and comfortable.

But my mind was still working overtime.

Or rather, it was working _again_.

It shut off for a little while, but it started again around seven.

And Liz and I hadn't even gone to bed until one-thirty.

And that's not exactly when we went to _sleep_.

"_So, your assistant thinks I'm hot_?" I teased her as she unwrapped a piece of Godiva chocolate.

"_Yes, she does. And so do I. You've got some serious skill with your…night stick."_

I barked out a laugh and then stole the chocolate from her fingertips, popping it into my mouth before she could take it back.

"_That was mine_," she stated firmly.

"_Come get it_," I challenged.

And let me tell you.

Liz never backs down from a challenge.

And I don't know if it's the threat of Ross or just that I love her so damn much, but whatever it is, lately I've had the endurance of an eighteen year old.

I plan to take advantage of it while it lasts.

So that's why it was after three before I finally drifted off to sleep, which means I was less than thrilled to wake up and find that not even four hours had passed.

And as much as I'd like to think I have the ability to close my eyes again and fall back asleep, I'm a realist.

It just wasn't going to happen.

When I slipped out of the bed, I saw that the notification light on my cell phone was flashing, so I snagged it from the nightstand and then headed for the kitchen.

Once the coffee was brewing, I looked at my phone and found that I had an email from Bobby.

"_Phillip Downey of Brighton Beach is on the friends list of Samantha Wright. He lives three blocks from the stolen Volvo and has a juvie record for GTA. That means killer number two is going down today, so nix the noon start time and call me when you get this_."

I normally wouldn't call him so early, but since the email had come through about thirty minutes ago, I decided to go ahead and do it.

"Goren," he answered, sounding somewhat sleepy and yet he'd still picked up quickly.

"You're still working?"

"From home. And I slept for a little while first. So you got my email?"

"Yeah, you think this is our guy?"

"It's a good possibility. Alex is going to try to get us a warrant, but she didn't want to push her luck by waking anyone up to ask for it, so…probably around eight or nine, okay?"

"Hey, I'm up anyway. May as well be catching a killer, right? So how much trouble did you get into last night?"

"For staying late?" he asked in amusement.

"For disobeying a direct order. I think that's called insubordination," I joked.

"She's used to me by now."

"Uh huh. And you guys probably did some kind of telepathic hocus-pocus so that she'd know exactly what you were up to, right?"

"Being attuned to each other isn't the same thing as telepathy. I can't literally read her mind."

I snorted out a sound of disbelief and so he conceded, "Okay, sometimes I can."

"That's what I thought. Okay, so call me when Alex gets the go-ahead on the warrant, and I'll come pick you up."

I hung up with Bobby and then decided to take a shower and get dressed so that I'd be ready whenever he called back.

Liz was still asleep when I finished, and since I'd already killed the first pot of coffee, I thought I'd slip out and get some of the good stuff for her.

And maybe something for breakfast.

Twenty minutes later, at just about eight o'clock, I headed down the sidewalk on my way back to Liz's place.

As I approached the steps, I practically skidded to a halt when I saw Ross standing at the top of the stairs, poised to knock on the door.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I called out.

He only rapped on the door once before my words registered with him, and then he stopped himself and turned his head towards me.

And I have to say that I got a tremendous amount of satisfaction from the look on his face.

The usual distaste and superiority was combined with disbelief and disappointment.

"Detective Logan," he stated, turning fully around to face me as I reached the steps and walked up to stand next to him. "You're telling me not to knock? Are you her personal guard dog or something?"

"No, I'm just saying…she's not a fan of unexpected company. Especially early on a Sunday morning after having a late night."

"So then what are you doing here?" he asked humorlessly.

"Me? Oh, I'm the reason why she had a late night. And I'm definitely not company," I said with a smile as I held up my keys, shaking them lightly in front of his face before deliberately selecting the right one and using it to unlock the door. I started to go inside and then I paused and said, "But I'll be sure to tell her you stopped by."

I punctuated my statement by slamming the door closed on him, and then I turned around to find Liz standing in the hall.

"Who're you talking to?"

She was dressed only in my shirt, yesterday's button-down, and I was hit by a wave of lust for her, one that made me glad I'd picked up a box of chocolates when I bought breakfast.

And the thought of ravaging her while Ross was still standing on the other side of the door…let's just say the adolescent possessive side of me took over.

I set down the cardboard tray that held two cups of coffee and the little bag from the bodega and then I pulled her into my arms.

"Mike?" she asked as I started kissing my way along her neck.

"Oh, yeah…it's…um…Ross."

"What's he doing out there?" she questioned, and at the same time, he knocked on the door again.

"Don't know…don't care," I murmured.

I moved my hands up into her hair, holding her in place while I proceeded to kiss her with unabashed purpose.

The knocking continued, because of course he knows we're home, and so I finally broke off the kiss and looked at her, shaking my head.

"I guess I have to give him points for his doggedness."

"You don't have to give him points for anything. Let me get dressed and I'll go talk to him."

"Or I can just get rid of him," I offered hopefully.

I'm not sure why it wasn't really bothering me that he'd dropped by.

Maybe because he was on one side of the door, and I was on the other.

And Liz was on my side, practically naked.

"_After_ I have you against this door," I added in a suggestive tone.

She looked like maybe she was considering it for a moment, but then she shook her head.

"Let me deal with him. And then I want to see what you brought me for breakfast."

"I've got chocolate in there, too," I said invitingly.

"Oh yeah?"

"Uh huh. And I might not have very much time. Bobby's going to call me within the hour."

"I'd better make it quick then."

She kissed me one more time and then went down the hall to get dressed, so I opened the door and stepped back outside.

"She'll be out in just a minute," I told Ross, who was still lurking on the front steps with the annoying stick-to-itiveness of a door-to-door salesman.

I looked down and saw that he was holding the Sunday edition of the New York Times.

"I guess you planned on waiting out here for a while," I remarked.

"It's for Liz."

"She gets it delivered. I took it inside an hour ago."

"Oh."

"So, what's your plan here, Ross? Because I'm trying really hard to be cordial, considering how you used to be my boss, but I've got to tell you…cordial's only going to last so long."

"Are you threatening me, Logan? That sounds about right. You never did learn how to be a grown-up, did you?"

"And you never learned how not to be an ass," I said as I stepped closer to him.

"Mike."

Liz and her impeccable timing.

I eased back from Ross and then turned to find her standing in the doorway.

"Give us just a minute, will you?" she asked me.

I looked her over, loving the fact that she'd put on a pair of jeans but stayed in the shirt that was obviously mine, and then I cast one last warning glance at Ross before I moved past Liz, back into the house. She grabbed onto my t-shirt as I passed, stopping my progress briefly.

"Five minutes," she said quietly, and then she reached up and kissed me.

It was quick and fairly chaste, but it still spoke volumes towards our level of intimacy, and I wanted to look at Ross one more time, just to flash him a boastful smile, but I didn't.

This wasn't about me one-upping him.

It's just about me and Liz.

So I slipped inside, only I didn't close the door all the way because I had to stay and listen.

Liz wouldn't expect anything less from me, especially considering the last time he'd had her alone, he'd kissed her.

I could feel my blood pressure rising just from thinking about it, so I shoved it out of my mind and settled in for my round of eavesdropping.

"_What are you doing here, Danny?"_

"_I wanted to try again. I know I screwed up by coming on too strong."_

"_So you decide to drop by at eight o'clock on a Sunday morning? Did you expect to find me more receptive? You're lucky I was even here at all."_

"_I made a call_," he admitted. "_I found out that you're not on the schedule this morning, but you're on call later, so…"_

"_You checked my schedule?"_

"_Some people might find my persistence endearing."_

"Or creepy," I muttered.

"_Some people would call it stalking_," Liz said, and I smiled at how close her thoughts were to mine.

"_Liz…"_

"_Look, I appreciate the effort, really I do. But this vision you have of the two of us together…it's not going to happen. I told you that."_

"_Right. Because you're with Logan."_

And damn him for sounding so baffled about that, as though she couldn't possibly love someone like me.

I eased a little closer to the door, waiting to hear her response.

"_I am. You saw him."_

"_Yeah. And you gave him a key? You never gave me a key."_

"_That's because I was never in love with you, Danny."_

"_And you're in love with him? Really? Or did you just give up trying to find the right man? Because you know…"_

"_I'm in love with Mike," _she interrupted, and I could tell by her tone that she'd had enough. "_Get used to it, because that fact isn't going to change."_

"_Even if he has a thing for Eames?"_

I should've known this was coming.

Fortunately, Liz knows me better than that.

"_You don't know what you're talking about."_

"_I think maybe you're the one in the dark,_" he said smugly. "_When I went by 1PP on Friday, I walked in on the two of them."_

And of course, he'd try to make it sound as sordid as possible.

I'd love to pull his LUDs and see if he was the one tipping off Channel 7.

"_Walked in on them. In her office?"_

"_In the captain's office_," he clarified, obviously not wanting to concede that it's Alex's office.

The dickhead.

"_They were hugging_," he declared as though he was the prosecuting attorney in a murder trial and he'd just unveiled the smoking gun.

"_So what? They're friends. I'm sure that's a foreign concept for you, but it's not for me."_

"_Still…overlooking the fact that they were acting in a grossly unprofessional manner, I have to wonder where you fit into this picture, Liz. He's not a one-woman man. You're only setting yourself up for heartbreak."_

"_Danny, you don't know Mike. And you don't know me anymore. So, thanks for dropping by, but I think we're done."_

"_Liz…"_

"_Move on," _she said, and from the sound of her voice, she was now standing right outside of the door. "_You're driving down a dead end here, and the next time, I can't promise Mike will be quite so nice."_

Good, because I'd hate to be responsible for her breaking a promise.

He said something in response, but I couldn't hear it because I had to move away from the door as she pushed it open and came inside.

"Don't even try to pretend like you weren't listening," she said, rolling her eyes at me as she closed the door behind her.

"Oh, I'm not. I heard just about every word," I replied as I advanced on her.

"So do you think he got the message?"

"If he didn't, his IQ must have dropped substantially while he was in witness protection," I stated, putting a hand on either side of her head and effectively trapping her between my body and the door.

"Well, it's possible. He can't seem to grasp that I'm in love with you."

"I'm having trouble with it myself. Why don't you tell me again?"

So she did.

Repeatedly, while I took her hard up against the door, like I'd wanted to do earlier.

And after we finished, we drank cold coffee and ate our chocolate and muffins while I filled her in on Bobby's latest break in the case.

"Alex is going to go on air with the information?"

"No. She's going to keep the focus on the Schuler case so that we can keep quietly working the Facebook angle."

"Smart. Risky, but smart."

"She left it up to us," I admitted. "So hopefully, we're right."

"How's your plan coming to keep Alex in her office?"

"It's done," I said with a smile. "No one needed convincing. Alex is the real deal."

We talked for a few more minutes about the potential outcomes of the big-wig meeting tomorrow, and then my phone rang.

"Logan," I answered.

"The judge turned down our request for a warrant," Bobby said. "It looks like we're going to have to finesse him."

"Hey, finesse is my middle name," I replied.

The warrant had been a stretch anyway, so I wasn't too concerned.

"Are you sure? I thought it was trouble."

"No, that's yours. Keep it straight, will you, Goren?" I joked. "I'll be there in twenty."

"I'm ready," he replied confidently. "Let's go find Jared a cellmate."

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"I wonder what the statute says about that."<p>

"About killing a dead man? I'm pretty sure it's still illegal."

"Well how about we hide his body and say he went back into witness protection?"

"Tempting," I agreed. "But probably not a good idea."

And I could see why it was so tempting for Logan, considering how Ross had shown up at Liz's place this morning.

It was tempting for me, too.

This meeting tomorrow…I've got a bad feeling about it.

I don't like Maas being excluded, and I don't like how Zaring blatantly told Alex that the mayor wants Ross.

The really annoying thing is that it's not about Ross. He simply wants Ross to fill Alex's void after he transfers her.

If it were anyone else, it might be something that all involved parties could sit down and discuss like adults, but since Ross feels the job is his God-given right, he can't even grasp the fact that he's just convenient.

It's not fair that karma should work out so well for him.

"Yeah, well it could still happen," he mumbled as my cell phone started buzzing.

I pulled it out and glanced at the display and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Logan was flexing the fingers on his right hand while gripping the wheel with his left.

"Still sore?"

"Again sore."

"You didn't hit Ross, did you?"

"I wish," he said, flashing me a grin. "And I'd tell you what I did, but you already told me that you don't like hearing details about my sex life, so…"

"Got it," I said quickly.

"Alex?" he asked nodding towards my still-buzzing phone.

"No. I don't know who it is."

I clicked the button and answered the call.

"Goren."

"Hey, Detective. Are you a man of your word or not?"

"Who is this?"

"Enzo Lettiere. You remember me?"

Enzo.

The unofficial bomb expert who saved our lives.

As if I'd ever forget him.

"Of course I do."

"Good because you said you owed me one, right?"

"I did, and I do. What do you need?"

"I…may have run into a little bit of trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I got popped this morning, but I'm telling you…I'm innocent."

"Popped for what?"

"Can I explain it when you get here?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the 7th precinct."

I promised him that I'd be down as soon as I could, and then I hung up and looked at Logan.

"Who got popped for what?" he asked.

"Enzo, and he didn't say, but he's asking for my help. I told him to call me if he ever found himself in a bind."

"And he waited two weeks. I'm impressed."

"That's not the good news," I told him. "He's at the 7th."

"Are you kidding me? What the hell was he doing in Lower Manhattan anyway?"

"I don't know, but it's a big squad room and it's Sunday. Maybe we won't run into Coleman."

"Yeah, because I'm that lucky," he said dryly.

We'd just picked up Phillip Downey and he was presently en route to 1PP in a black and white.

And neither of us had any doubt that he was guilty as hell.

"_NYPD, open up!"_ I'd called out gruffly as I banged on his door.

He had it open before the third knock, and he'd stood there in his pajamas, staring at us like we were the angels of death.

"_Phillip Downey?"_ I clarified.

"_Yeah. What did I do?"_

"_I don't know, Phillip. What _did_ you do?"_ Logan asked him as together we flashed our badges and then straightened up so that we were both standing at our full height, which was considerably more than his.

"_I…I…"_

"_Grand theft auto?"_ Logan posed. _"Murder?"_

He stared at us for so long that I wasn't sure what to make of him.

No denial or confession, just a blank stare.

And then out of the blue, he swung the door closed as hard as he could and attempted to escape into his apartment.

I caught the door with my hand and shoved it back open and then ran inside after him.

"_I'll go around!"_ Logan called out as he headed for the stairwell.

Phillip lived on the second floor of a building, so even though there wasn't a fire escape, it wasn't that far of a drop. And if he made it outside, we might lose him unless Logan was quick enough.

I tore through the apartment chasing after the suspect as he ran down the hall and into a bedroom.

As I turned the corner going into the room, he picked up his computer from his desk and tossed it at me and then turned around and started tugging on the window, trying to get it open.

I threw up one hand to block the flying laptop, but the corner of it still caught me in the forehead, causing me to falter slightly. I managed to keep the computer from dropping to the ground, since I knew we'd want to scour it for information, and I tossed it onto the bed as I hustled over to the window.

His feet were still visible inside, and I grabbed onto his ankles while the rest of his body dangled out of the window.

He kicked at me, trying to shake loose my grip, but I held on until I heard Logan call out.

"_Send him on down, Goren!"_

So I let him go.

He tumbled down onto the pavement below, falling into a heap at Logan's feet.

"_Going somewhere, Phillip_?" he asked him. "_I guess we don't need to ask if you're guilty, do we?"_

I watched as Logan hauled the young man to his feet and slapped on the cuffs and then I ducked back inside and called for CSU.

I was glad to see that the laptop hadn't broken when it hit my hard head. Hopefully there would be something useful on there.

I was pretty sure that Phillip was just another competitor, like Jared, and that he wasn't the one running the show, but it sure would be nice to find an electronic trail of breadcrumbs.

Logan and I had poked around for a little while and then we'd decided to head back to 1PP to see what Phillip felt like talking about, but that was when the call came in from Enzo, causing us a slight detour.

Because Italian mobster or not, I owed him. It's not like I could get him out of a murder charge or anything, but I could certainly take a few minutes out of my day to find out what was going on and see what I could do to help.

As for going to Detective Coleman's precinct…well, hopefully Logan's phone call to her had taken care of that misunderstanding.

We'd run into her last week when the sixth murder victim was found in her jurisdiction, the same day that we found her business card in Erin's apartment, and Logan had let me do all of the talking.

She kept looking to him like she wanted him to stand up for her or something, but he'd backed me up as I chastised her for her negligence.

By the end of our conversation, I think she was just glad to get rid of us.

And now we were coming back.

Hopefully it was some other detective who'd arrested Enzo.

And it was, but Coleman still made a beeline for us as soon as we entered the squad room.

"Are you back about the O'Hara case? Do you have any leads? I saw your boss on the news a few minutes ago and she didn't mention it."

I would've liked to have seen Alex's press conference, but I had no doubt that she handled it perfectly.

The woman is unflappable.

And intuitive.

And amazing.

And…I had to get my mind back on the task at hand.

"We're not here about that case, Coleman," I said as I looked past her in search of Detective Lipscomb, the one who'd made the arrest on Enzo. "It's something else."

"Oh," she said hopefully and then she shifted her focus onto Logan. "A personal visit? Because if you're here to ask me out, I think I'm going to require you to beg a little after leaving me on the line all weekend."

"If you're waiting on the line for me, you'd better settle in for the long haul," he replied. "Because I quit fishing about a month ago."

"So you say, and yet you're here."

"At your _precinct_. Where a friend of ours got picked up," he clarified, and then he turned to me, shaking his head at her persistence.

"Detective Lipscomb," I told her. "Point him out and we'll be on our way."

She sighed and pointed out the detective in question and so we headed for his desk.

"It was one night," Logan muttered. "You know, I find it really hard to believe I was _that_ damn good."

I laughed at his befuddlement and then stepped up in front of the desk of Detective Lipscomb and introduced myself.

"You arrested Enzo Lettiere today?"

"That's right. Homicide. What's it to you? You looking at him for something?"

"No, but we'd like to talk to him."

Two hours later, we were back at 1PP, and three hours after that, we walked into Pete's after having secured a confession from the very transparent Phillip Downey.

I scanned the room quickly and saw Alex sitting with Stanley at one of our usual tables.

"Is this table just for brass, or can any old riffraff sit down?" Logan joked as he sat down heavily in one of the chairs.

I went around the table so that I could sit next to Alex and as I sat down, Stanley said, "Hang on, Goren. Has it been a long day again? Because maybe I should go to the bar and get the drinks before you say hello to Alex."

I didn't answer him because I was already leaning in to kiss her.

"Okay, so drinks it is," he said. "I'll be right back."

"You do that just to fluster him," Alex accused me amusedly after I finally pulled back and put my arm round her.

"No, I do it because it's been eight hours since I've seen you and I don't think I could wait another minute."

"Wow, you really say stuff like that?" Logan asked. "And where's Liz?"

"She'll be here any minute," Alex answered with a smirk. "Why, has it been eight hours since you've seen her?"

"At least," he replied.

"So tell me about Downey," Alex said, looking back and forth between us. "You got his confession?"

"That had to be the easiest one I've ever been involved with," I said.

"Well, except for the part where he tried to jump out of the window," Logan added. "But once he realized he wasn't going to escape, he was ready to talk."

"Yeah, but did he say anything to help you find the other four killers?"

"No, but Scott in CCS was going through Phillip's laptop and the history hadn't been thoroughly erased. He's piecing it together and he thinks he might be able to find the chat room."

"That's progress," she said.

"With the FBK?" Maas asked as he came back to the table with our drinks.

"Uh huh," I nodded, and then Logan and I filled him in. As we finished up, Liz came into the bar and made her way to our table.

"Sorry I'm running late. What did I miss?"

"Killer number two is behind bars," I stated. "And now that we're all here, we want to fill you in on what else happened today."

"If you say you ran into Danny…" Liz mumbled.

"Not Ross," Logan said quickly. "One go-round with him is enough for today."

"You saw him?" Stanley questioned.

"He came to my house this morning," Liz answered. "But I'll come back to that. What happened?"

"I got a call from Enzo," I said.

"The guy who defused the bomb?"

"Uh huh. I told him to call me if he ever got into trouble and…"

"What kind of trouble is he in?" Alex asked.

"He got booked on murder charges," Logan said. "But he swears he didn't do it."

"He's being set up?"

"Either that or they just got the wrong guy."

"Are you sure?" Maas asked. "I mean, we don't know much about him."

I caught Logan's eye across the table and he nodded at me.

"We're sure," I said. "We talked to him for a while. He's not a killer. I'm not saying he hasn't committed the random crime, but not murder. I think he's mostly all bark and no bite."

"So you're going to help him," Stanley stated. "Did you talk to the investigating detective?"

"He didn't want to hear it. He's sure he has his man."

Maas looked at Alex and said, "Something like this is going to be controversial. I'm surprised the reporters haven't already picked up on the fact that you helped broker a deal for Gino Bisetti, and now if your detectives are helping another Mafioso take a walk…"

"If he's innocent, then he's innocent," she said rationally. "It won't hurt to look into the case a little more."

"No, maybe he's right," Logan said. "If the press gets wind of this, it might be the final bit of leverage that Ross needs."

"You want us to back off?" I asked Alex.

She caught my gaze and we looked at each other for a long minute.

"No," she said at last. "You gave him your word. And I'm not going to let you _not_ do your job in order to try to protect mine."

I shifted my gaze to Maas and watched him as he picked up his drink and tossed it back.

"She's right. And this Ross thing…it's gone beyond petty accusations now anyway."

"You mean you think it's going to happen?" Liz asked him.

"I think the decision's been made, good or bad," he said ambiguously. Then he looked over at Logan and said, "Did you get the…"

"Yeah," he answered.

"Good. I'll stop by later tonight and drop it off."

"Drop off what?" Alex asked.

"Oh, just some paperwork," Stanley deflected. He checked his watch and added, "I need to head out. I'm meeting Traci in thirty minutes."

"Traci," Logan said with a grin. "You mean answer-the-door-in-your-skivvies Traci?"

"Yeah," he answered on a laugh. "And I see my decision not to bring her here was a good one!"

"Come on, Cap. We'd love to meet her."

"Soon," he promised, looking at me and Alex.

And I could appreciate what he was doing.

He didn't know her well enough to risk our careers by outing us to her.

"I'll walk you out," Logan said as he got up from the table. "Be right back."

The two of them left and Alex and Liz both looked at me.

"So you're going to work the FBK case and Enzo's case? When are you and Mike going to sleep?" Liz asked me.

"When both cases are closed, I guess. Sorry Liz, but I don't see much chocolate in your future."

Logan appeared back at the table, only having walked Maas to the door. But instead of sitting down, he held out his hand to Liz.

"There's always chocolate in your future, sweetheart. Let's get out of here."

She flashed us an apologetic smile as she got up from the table.

"Bright and early," Logan said to me, and then he leaned down and kissed Alex on the cheek and said, "Don't sweat this Ross thing. We've got you covered."

Once he and Liz made their exit, Alex looked at me inquisitively.

"You've got me covered?"

"Don't ask," I replied.

"I'm asking."

"If it works, you're set. If it doesn't, you'll have something to talk about to the press because we're going to make national news."

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I didn't push Bobby any more for details on how they had me covered.<p>

I could have.

And he probably would've told me.

But I just didn't.

I was tired of worrying and strategizing and plotting.

I just wanted to go home and fall asleep in his arms while believing that there really is justice in the world.

Because I know I deserve my job.

And I know I'm better at it than Ross.

So it would only be fair of the powers that be to let me keep it and assign Ross…anywhere else.

"Stanley's not bringing Traci around because of us," Bobby commented as he pulled out some cash to cover our tab.

"Uh huh," I agreed idly as I played with my glass, watching the remaining liquid as it swirled around.

"I wonder if he'll bring her to our wedding," he posed. I looked up and saw him watching me playfully. "I guess he will, huh? I mean, if we're having the wedding, then we'll be out of the closet."

"Are we having a big wedding?" I questioned, enjoying the moment as he settled back against his seat and put his arm around me.

"Huge," he stated. "With an orchestra and an indecipherable ice sculpture…"

"Indecipherable?"

"It'll be a conversational piece. Is it a duck? Or a platypus?"

"A platypus?" I said, now unable to keep from laughing. "Who has a platypus ice sculpture? Or even a duck for that matter."

"What do you want it to be?"

"Non-existent. I don't need an ice sculpture."

"No, you don't. But we'll have one anyway. And an eight-tier wedding cake. And you can wear some ridiculously elaborate white gown…"

"White?" I interrupted. "I'm not sure I can pull that off. Red would probably better suit the symbolism."

"You can pull off anything."

"You're always so sure of me," I replied as I looked up at him. "How can that be?"

"Death, taxes, and Alex. The three constants in the world," he said as he kissed my cheek. "Are you ready to go home?"

An hour later, I was wrapped in his arms, the two of us snugly ensconced beneath the covers.

I could both hear and feel Bobby's steady breathing as he slept peacefully behind me.

But I was wide awake.

Because despite my internal pep talk about not worrying…despite Bobby's assurance that they had some kind of grand plan to keep me in my position…despite Stanley's support…I was still pretty sure that I was going to lose my job.

Things had looked bleak enough leading up to today, considering how much the mayor wants me in that other position, and now with my apparent ties to the mafia…

It almost sounded like a joke, and yet it wasn't.

The Italians love me.

"_How's Captain Eames_?" Enzo had asked Bobby earlier today.

"_She's doing well_," Bobby told him.

"_Good. You know, we're indebted to her. She took care of Gino, just like she promised."_

Because I'd gotten Gino immunity.

He'd learned quite a bit of valuable information about the weapons trafficking business during his short time with Hassan, and even though he refused to talk about Alfredo Toscano, it didn't matter. What he was able to tell the feds about the trafficking business was enough to get him a walk on his part in the accidental death of Joey Banta.

As far as I'm concerned, the deal was justified.

But if the press hears that two Major Case detectives stopped by to see Enzo Lettiere after he'd been picked up on murder charges…they're going to have a field day at my expense.

Although what are the odds of them finding out? I mean, really. So far, I didn't think they were even following _me_ around, so why would they bother to follow Bobby and Mike?

But still, if they do find out, I'll be lucky if Mayor Holt even wants me in the media department, much less Major Case.

Of course that was another consideration.

Do I even want to take the media assignment as the consolation prize?

If I get bumped from MCS, they'll fully expect me to take the liaison job, but what if I just go back to being a detective?

_Working for Ross…_

And that would mean forcing Logan to find a new partner.

And new regs or not, Ross would never be okay with the fact that Bobby and I are together.

I sighed heavily and got up from the bed.

I wandered through the darkened apartment, this place that was now home due to my assignment of finding Ross' killer.

It was mind-boggling.

I still had to deal with Alonzo, too.

Stanley's new girlfriend was supposedly going to slap a slander suit on her first thing in the morning.

I'd love to be a fly on the wall when those papers get served.

But really, she was the least of my worries.

Wyatt and Yuille had nabbed Martha Schuler and in the process, they'd regained their confidence, which was a good thing.

And Bobby and Logan had caught two of the six FBKs. The acronym now seemed more appropriate as Facebook Killers rather than the Five Boroughs Killer, but whatever…I've always hated nick names for killers anyway.

Catching two out of six killers wasn't enough. We needed to catch them all, and we still had one unidentified girl.

Not to mention this latest with Enzo.

_"My girl was stepping out on me,"_ he'd said to Bobby. "_And now the cazzone is dead. But I didn't do it."_

_"Then why do they say you did?"_

_"Because. I got a little bit of a jealous streak, you know what I'm saying? But I didn't do this. I ain't saying I wasn't thinking about doing it. I'm just saying I didn't."_

_"Because you were at choir practice, right?"_ Logan had prodded.

_"No, because the mope was stabbed, right? Not my style. Too messy."_

_"You're a bomb guy,"_ Bobby had pointed out.

_"Oh, sure, but that's messy for the victim. Knives are messy for the killer. Catch my meaning?"_

_"You're saying it can't be you because if you'd killed him, you would've blown him up."_

_"Right."_

So Mike and Bobby were going to help prove his innocence based on the cause of death.

And they were going to put a man back out on the streets who had possibly killed in the past.

Except that we don't know for sure what he's done in the past and there's no proof of prior crimes, and he's not wanted for anything.

So why in the world should we let an over-zealous detective charge him with murder if he's innocent?

We shouldn't.

Even if it means I take a damaging hit at an inopportune time.

Which is why when Bobby asked me if he should back off, there was no way I could say yes.

"That rule of yours goes both ways, you know."

I startled and turned around to find Bobby standing in the kitchen doorway.

"I don't like waking up alone," he continued as he came towards me. "Can't sleep?"

"No. There's just…too much."

"Uh huh," he agreed, wrapping his arms around me. "But we've been here before."

"Really?"

"Okay, well not exactly right here. But we've been in tight spots and we've always come out on top. And at least this time, no one's trying to kill us."

"True," I hummed.

"Remember our little fantasy?" he asked in a rough tone.

"Which one? We have so many," I replied coyly, already feeling better than I was moments ago.

_When I was alone_, I reminded myself.

How many examples did I need to offer myself of how much better I am with him than without him?

I was tempted to blow off work tomorrow and drive to a no-wait state and get married on the spot, NYPD be damned.

And really, if I blew off work, I'd be throwing away the police department anyway, so it would kind of kill two birds with one stone.

"Don't be dirty-minded," he chastised, although as he said it, he slid his hands down over my butt, squeezing lightly.

"You're the one who mentioned a fantasy."

"Our career fantasy," he corrected. "We'll move to Italy…

"You know what my fantasy is?" I interrupted, now suddenly feeling sad and serious because I was so damn close to having it all and yet I could feel it slipping away.

"Tell me."

"You and me, working our jobs as they are now. And the two of us being married. No reincarnated Ross. No vindictive Alonzo. No rabid press. Just us in Major Case. Is that really too much to ask?"

"No," he answered simply. He moved his hands up to my cheeks, tilting my face up towards his. "No, it's not."

He kissed me purposefully, almost encouragingly as though he was trying to lift my spirits through the force of his love.

And maybe it worked.

Because Monday morning, I felt determined.

Whatever happened at the meeting would happen.

Thanks to Denise, we still had at least another week before any of the proposed changes would be permanent, which meant I had at least a week of fight left in me.

I dropped Bobby off at the corner and then drove to 1PP.

Once in my office, I tackled my inbox with renewed vigor, but after only a minute, there was a knock on my door.

"Captain, we got the priest," Granger said after he opened the door.

"What about the second victim?"

"Poison. The death was delayed, and it messed with the TOD and the COD, but it's tough to fool Rodgers. She nailed it."

"Good, so…"

"Warrant. It's on the way, and then we're going to pick him up."

"Nice work, Detective."

He smiled at me and stepped away, only to bump into Yuille.

"Captain?"

"What is it?"

"I just wanted to…um…can I come in?"

I nodded at him and then got up from my chair and walked around to the front of my desk while he came in and closed the door behind him.

"What's going on?" I asked him, since he stood uneasily in the center of my office without making eye contact and yet wasn't saying anything.

"It's Christy. She called me a few minutes ago."

I waved my hand towards the chair and he moved over and sat down while I nudged a hip up on the front of my desk.

"And?"

"She is _pissed_. You filed a slander suit against her?"

_Stanley's girl works fast_, I thought.

"She told a reporter that I'm having an affair with Detective Logan. Did she think I wouldn't fight back?"

"I don't know," he said. And then he finally smiled. "But I'm so glad you did. You know it's because of her that those reporters keep asking you about me, right? She still thinks she can get me fired."

"I can handle a few reporters. And after your work on the Schuler case, I don't think anyone has any doubts as to your qualifications for being here."

"I just…I really appreciate how you've stood by me, and I'm sorry that you're dealing with so much because of me."

"Don't take it all onto yourself," I told him. "You sound like another detective I know. Trust me…the meeting this morning would be happening with or without you."

"It's still crap," he said vehemently. "And if there's anything that you need for me to do…"

"I know. Thank you," I told him.

He gave me a nod and then headed for the door, and when he opened it, there was Alonzo on the other side.

"Big surprise, finding you in here behind closed doors," she said snidely to Yuille. "Maybe it's you and not Logan who's sleeping with boss."

"Maybe I'll add another count to the suit," I retorted as I walked across my office to meet her in the doorway. Yuille looked back at me, seemingly awaiting further instruction, so I motioned for him to go back to his desk and then I turned back to Alonzo. "Go ahead. Pick another detective and make another false accusation. I'm sure my attorney will love having more ammunition."

"The suit is bullshit and you know it."

"What's bullshit is how you even got up here," I corrected as I eyed her visitor's pass. "Did you sleep with the desk sergeant to get approval?"

She stood with her hands on her hips as she tried to stare me down, but I've dealt with worse than her on a regular basis. I held my ground until she eased her position slightly.

"I can't have a lawsuit right now," she said bitingly. "I'm in a custody battle."

"Then you should've thought of that before you started feeding information to Channel 7."

She glared at me a moment longer and then closed her eyes and said, "Can we go in your office please?"

It wasn't how I'd imagined spending my morning while others were a few floors up, deciding my fate, but I stepped back and let her inside before closing the door behind her.

"I've got two minutes," I stated. "What do you want?"

"I want you to drop the suit."

"I'm sure you do. Why should I?"

"Because. I'm done. If you want to screw the entire department in your office, then you can have at it and I won't say a word."

"You're not winning me over."

"I know. I'm sorry. It's…hard to swallow my pride."

"Do it or don't, but you've got one more minute before I have you escorted out of the building," I said firmly.

"Look, like I said. I'm in a custody battle. I can't afford to get tied up in another legal mess, not to mention the fact that my ex will use it against me."

I continued to stare at her, and she finally lost some of her arrogance.

"Please," she said quietly. "I know I don't deserve your sympathy, but…I've been going through a really bad time, and it was easy for me to use you as the root of all of my trouble. I know that's not the case, and…I'm sorry."

"Okay," I said at last.

"Okay?" she asked in surprise as though my agreement was the last thing she thought possible.

And maybe I was going easy on her, but really, the suit wasn't my idea in the first place.

I just needed her off my back, so if she was going to leave me alone, then I'd let it go.

"Yeah, sure. Consider it dropped."

"Okay. Wow…um, thank you."

"Don't mention it. Really," I said as I reluctantly held out my hand to shake hers in a truce. "And lose Theresa's number, will you?"

"I will. But you know…she called me this morning."

"What did you say?" I asked warily.

"Nothing. She wanted to know if I knew anything about you being in bed with the Italians."

Okay, so maybe somebody _is_ following Bobby and Mike.

Which means…if they know about them meeting with Enzo, then what else do they know?

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Moran POV **

* * *

><p>I got to the office at five-thirty.<p>

Early for me, by any stretch of the imagination, but I was ready to get to this meeting.

And I know.

It's scheduled for eight.

So there was no need for me to be so early other than because I had some soul-searching to do.

Because see, the mayor's already made up his mind.

This meeting is just a formality.

Eames had unknowingly sealed her fate yesterday when she stood up in front of the microphone.

"_What's the status of the FBK investigation?"_

"_At this point, I don't have anything new to disclose. The detectives are still tracking various leads."_

"_That's what you said on Friday!"  
><em>

"_And that's what they're still doing. This isn't a TV show where murders are solved in a day, Theresa. This is real life. Sometimes it takes weeks, maybe even longer."_

"_But isn't Major Case supposed to be the best?"_ the reporter had retorted smartly.

"_We _are_ the best. That's why this case will be solved." _

"_Is that a personal guarantee?"_

"_That my detectives will catch the FBK? Yes. Absolutely."_

"_You mean just like they solved the Schuler case?" _

Eames had smiled broadly at Theresa, and I knew she had to be enjoying the moment.

"_Actually, yes. I'm pleased to be able to say that late last night, a confession was obtained from Martha Black Schuler. She'll be facing charges of two counts of murder, and one count of murder-for-hire, in addition to various lesser charges stemming from her attempts to evade arrest."_

"_Captain, two counts?"_

"_The body of Martha Schuler's twin sister was recovered yesterday afternoon."_

"_Didn't you have the sister in custody?"_

"_No, we had Martha. Marion Black has apparently been dead for nearly a week."_

"_Wait, so the detectives arrested the right woman earlier in the week, and then they let her go, thinking it was the twin?"_

"_Schuler was involved in an elaborate plot designed to escape prosecution. Detectives Yuille and Wyatt did an outstanding job on a highly unusual case."_

She'd gone on to give brief updates on other active cases and then she'd ended the session.

As soon as she stepped away from the podium, Mayor Holt had called me.

"_Kenny, I want that girl in media. Make it happen."_

"_I'm guessing by _girl_ you mean Captain Eames."_

"_Right, right. The public loves her, and she's a natural. I could probably get caught with one hand on a bong and the other on a hooker, and she'd still make me look like a choir boy."_

"_Oh, I don't know about that, sir."_

"_What's the problem, Kenny? The NYPD needs that kind of image right now. We need her as our public face."_

"_But she doesn't want the job."_

"_I don't care!"_

"_Sir, she's very good where she is," _I insisted. _"The department is running smoothly, and their efficiency is…"_

"_Ross can't run things?" _he interrupted._ "You put him there first, remember? He was your choice for captain. Are you telling me that you were wrong when you gave him that post five years ago? Is he not the man for the job?"_

Leave it to a politician to seamlessly jam me between a rock and a hard place.

"_No, sir, but things have…evolved."_

"_Just fix it, Kenny. Or I'll find a chief who can."_

So this morning, I was going to have to transfer Eames to the media department.

Not right away of course, since Ross still had requirements to fulfill, but the word was going out today.

And it gave me a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

_She doesn't deserve this._

And Ross doesn't deserve the keys to the store.

Not this fast, anyway.

And Eames had a point last week.

Ross had his ass on his shoulders and to my knowledge he's still never even said thank you.

Was he always like that?

Probably.

Maybe I just never noticed because he's so good at kissing ass.

Now Eames…there's no ass-kissing involved with her. No punches pulled, no smoke being blown…she's a _what you see is what you get_ kind of captain.

My kind of captain.

Not only does she not deserve to lose her position, but if Ross goes back to Major Case, what will that do to Goren?

It's no secret that Ross hates him. And while I haven't always been a huge fan, over the past year, I've come to a better understanding about him.

And I've grown to respect him.

I've also realized that maybe my prior opinion was skewed by Ross' distaste.

So if Ross took over, right away there would be tension and discord.

And to what end?

He wasn't going to do nearly as good a job as Eames.

All of this pressure from the mayor was simply about him wanting to strong-arm her into the media department more so than him wanting Ross back.

The opening of my office door startled me out of my introspection and I glanced at the clock as I looked up to see who was my fellow early bird.

"Denise," I said in surprise. "You're early."

"So are you," she replied. She crossed my office and set down a cup of coffee on my desk.

"What's that?" I asked her, nodding toward the thick manila envelope she held in her hand.

"Oh, it's…for you. Captain Maas gave it to me last night."

But instead of giving it to me, she continued to hold it as she looked at me curiously.

"You're going to do it, aren't you?"

I started to question what she meant, but then I sighed and sat back in my chair.

There was no need for games.

She's been with me too long for that.

"I'm not sure that I have a choice."

"He's putting on the squeeze?"

"Holt is, not Zaring," I clarified. "Zaring just wants to do whatever the mayor wants. He knows it's wrong, but he won't stand up to him."

"What about you?"

"Am I going to stand up to him? I'm not sure I've got that kind of clout," I said resignedly. "He already mentioned replacing me if I don't get it done."

"Well, then maybe this will help," she said, and then she tossed the envelope onto my desk. "And give me just a minute. I've got something else to add to it."

I watched her in confusion as she left my office and then returned a few seconds later with a piece of paper in her hand.

"See what Holt thinks of this," she said. She put the paper down on top of the envelope that was still lying on my desk untouched, and then she looked at me and said pointedly, "If you want me to take down a letter for you, just give me a buzz."

I waited until she left, closing the office door behind her, and then I glanced down at the items on my desk.

On top of the envelope was Denise's letter of resignation.

Once I looked it over, I had a pretty good idea of what was in the envelope.

And I wasn't wrong.

Inside was an entire stack of resignation letters.

The first one was from Maas, and it had a note paper clipped to it.

_Holt likes numbers? See what he thinks of these. To be put into effect if Captain Eames is removed from Major Case._

I flipped through the papers and saw that every single detective in Major Case was accounted for.

She's been there a month and they're all willing to quit for her…I couldn't help but smile.

I mean, yeah, it's professional blackmail, but I like it.

And she had Stanley behind her, and Denise, too.

Unbelievable.

This was unprecedented.

I started at the top of the stack again and read through each letter more carefully.

Maas, who worked his ass off for this Deputy Chief job. His personal life was in shambles and at the moment, the job was about all he had, and yet he was ready to give it up.

Logan.

The purported affair.

I had to believe Eames when she said it wasn't true. Not because I find it implausible or because I don't like Logan. Unlike Ross, I can actually see that the man is a damn good detective.

But I asked her pointblank and she'd said no, so…I believe her.

I flipped to the next one.

Goren.

His was the least surprising.

The two of them have been together for what seems like forever.

I wonder if he can even remember who his partner was before her.

I'd been slightly concerned that she wouldn't take the promotion since it would mean not being his partner any more.

That was one reason why I'd worked so hard to come up with a good alternative for his partner.

I didn't want her worrying about him while she was tackling the new position.

And I'd wanted to punch Ross on Thursday for telling her that she'd left Goren behind.

Frankly, I don't see that happening whether they're partners or not.

Which is why I've never asked her pointblank whether or not she's having a relationship with _him_.

Because I don't think she'd lie to me.

And I still haven't signed off on those new regulations yet.

I've been trying to find the right time to slide it past Zaring, but with the way the reporters keep questioning Eames about detectives' personal relationships, I've been afraid to bring it up because then he'll get suspicious.

And he'll probably want to start a whole inquisition.

And it's not that I need him to approve it.

That's my call.

But he does need to know about it, and sometimes he gets hinky about things like that, and with this Ross situation, we had enough craziness going on without adding to it by having a witch hunt.

Although we might get one anyway, but for a different reason.

"_We might have a minor fire to put out,"_ Stanley had said to me when he called yesterday.

"_What kind of fire? Major Case?"_

"_Where else?"_

"_Dammit, Stanley, I don't need trouble there."_

"_You're telling me. But it stems from Ross, and I'm not the one who rolled out the red carpet to him, so…"_

"_Yeah, I got it,"_ I interrupted. Because he was right about that. I'd welcomed Ross into my office without thinking the situation through. _"So what did he do now?"_

"_He dropped by Eames' apartment on Friday night."_

"_For what?"_

"_To talk, I guess. But she wasn't there."_

"_So why is that a problem?"_

"_Because I was there. And I answered the door. Not fully dressed."_

I think I probably sat in silence for nearly a minute before I could think of anything to say.

My deputy chief was at the apartment of the MCS captain, on a Friday night, partially dressed.

All we needed was for Theresa the barracuda to get a hold of that one.

"_Should I ask?"_ I said at last. "_Because I'm not sure I want to know why you were there."_

"_You heard me say that she wasn't home, right?"_

"_Yeah, okay, so…"_

"_She was housesitting for her sister, and you know I've been staying at a hotel since Clare kicked me out, and…well, Alex offered to let me stay at her place over the weekend since she wasn't going to be there."_

_"And while you were there you decided to open the door half-naked?"_

_"I had a date. And I…"_

_"Okay, I don't need to know details, Stanley. But you know how this looks, right?"_

_"Of course I know! I'm sure it'll be the first words out of Ross' mouth at that meeting tomorrow because he'll want to paint Alex as the kind of person who's trying to sleep her way to the top, and you and I both know that's not true."_

_"Everybody knows that's not true," _I'd retorted, although I wasn't entirely sure of that.

Would Zaring believe Ross simply because it was a convenient version of the truth?

"_Really? Or will they believe it just so they can sleep at night after they screw her out of her job?"_ Stanley said, his words echoing my exact thoughts.

This whole thing had turned into one giant circle-jerk.

Why should Ross get his position back just because he's _here_?

Eames worked her ass off and judging from the stack of letters in my hand, she'd won the respect and admiration of every single person in her department.

Who would quit for Ross?

Quite possibly no one.

So what kind of chief would I be if I sat back and let this happen?

I took a deep breath and scooted up my chair and then reached over and pushed the button on the intercom.

"Denise, can you come in here please? I need you to take a letter."

TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

**Maas POV**

* * *

><p>"I want in on this meeting."<p>

I made my declaration and then stood squarely in Moran's office, watching him as he formulated a response.

I was prepared for battle, and I had half a dozen reasons at the ready, reasons for why I should be invited.

"Okay."

"Because, Chief, I…what? Okay?"

"Yeah," he said with a smirk. "Okay."

"Oh. Good."

"I got your little care package that you dropped off last night. Was that your idea?"

"No, sir. But I wish it had been."

He nodded thoughtfully and then checked the clock.

"We're doing this in the conference room," he stated. "And it won't take but a minute, so are you ready?"

"Yeah," I said carefully. "Won't take but a minute?"

"Holt's going to have some thinking to do before he makes a change that'll leave him down two dozen detectives and two chiefs, don't you think?"

He got up from his desk and gave me a triumphant smile and for the first time since I saw Ross in this office last Thursday, I started to feel like maybe things were going to go our way.

_Two_ chiefs?

I mean, I'd wondered how Moran would respond to the flood of support for Alex, but I hadn't actually expected him to add his own resignation to the pile.

"Yes, sir. I hope so," I said as a slow smile spread across my face.

"I'll tell you one thing," Moran mumbled to me as we walked down the hall. "I can't wait to see how they like being the ones not calling the shots for once."

I can tell you how they liked it.

Not one damn bit.

"Kenny, have you completely lost control of your department?" Mayor Holt yelled.

"I don't see it as a loss of control. I see it as a show of solidarity. And for the record, I didn't start this little revolt, but I'm definitely proud to be a part of it."

Holt stood slack-jawed, staring at Moran.

And I don't mind that the addition of the chief's resignation kind of took the punch out of mine.

Collectively, we were still packing a wallop.

The chief told me that mayor likes numbers…well, now he had them.

A grand total of thirty-three resignation letters.

And as annoyed as Holt was about this turn of events, Ross was even more exasperated.

"They won't do that," he said.

His words were firm, but his tone was shaky, almost like he was making an interrogative rather than a statement.

"They? We," I corrected.

"It's a shameless, empty threat," he replied.

"You want empty?" I asked as I took a step closer to him. "I'll show you empty. How about nearly three dozen empty desks? How's that for empty?"

"They can be filled just as quickly," Ross countered, accepting my non-verbal challenge and stepping up in front of me so that we were practically nose to nose.

"Gentlemen," Zaring said. "Let's keep this civilized. Sit down, Danny. Stanley, you, too."

I continued to glare at Ross until he finally obeyed the order and backed off, slowly moving away from me and then sitting down in a chair.

I remained standing, but Zaring didn't seem to care since he'd managed to keep the situation from coming to blows.

So far, anyway.

"Kenny, where's this coming from?" Holt asked. "We're not suggesting that Eames be terminated. We're offering her a position that will showcase her talents."

I scoffed loudly, unable to hold back my response, and Moran looked at me slightly reproachfully as he answered the mayor's question, using the tact that I was presently lacking.

"You'll be wasting her talents in the media department. The reporters have a love affair going on with her right now, but you know as well as I do that they're fickle and in a week or two, they'll be ready for someone else. Using her intermittently will be much more effective, not to mention the fact that Major Case will suffer a tremendous loss if you move her out."

Now it was Ross' turn to scoff.

"Thank you, Chief," he said bitterly. Then he turned to Zaring and said, "Is it really necessary to play these games? It's no secret why there's an Eames crusade going on here."

"Because they respect and admire her?" Zaring posed, and I swear I felt like kissing the man.

"Because the deputy chief is sleeping with her!" Ross shouted in frustration, waving a hand in my general direction. "He probably started this whole thing!"

Holt whipped his head around to look at me, and Moran reached out and put a hand on my shoulder. I'm not sure if it was to keep me from strangling Ross, or just to tell me to keep quiet.

"You're as bad as the damn reporters," Moran responded. "There's a woman in a top position, so it's automatically assumed that there's a sex scandal involved. Yuille, Logan, and now Maas."

"I saw it with my own eyes," Ross insisted as he glared at me.

"You saw _what_?" Holt questioned.

"Nothing," I answered after Moran nodded at me. "I've recently separated from my wife, and I don't have a place to live yet. Captain Eames' apartment was empty because she was staying with her sister, so she loaned me her apartment. That's all."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Zaring said as he looked to Ross for a rebuttal.

"He was in his underwear at eleven o'clock at night," he said lamely.

"And he just stated that Eames wasn't there," Moran stated. "So now we know why Stanley was there. Why don't you tell us what _you_ were doing there at that time of night? Were you going to try to strong-arm her out of her position? Maybe try to strike up a deal with her?"

"I was going to try to encourage her to take the transfer," he admitted. "I thought it would be better for her if she did it on her own rather than waiting until it was mandated."

"Oh, so you were looking out for her well-being," I said smartly.

"Yes."

"Not to mention the fact that it would make it easier on you because then you wouldn't have to fight to get your job back," I retorted. "You wanted her to surrender."

"It's not a battle," Ross fired back as he once again stood up and approached me.

"I think it is. You walk back in here, making demands and acting entitled…why should she bow to you? Why should any of us?"

"Because I was here first."

"That's a good argument," I said scathingly as I rolled my eyes. "Give Ross his job back because he was here first. Not because he's better."

"Maybe I should apply for the deputy chief job instead. It was supposed to be mine anyway."

"Yeah, before you went into hiding."

"Witness protection," he corrected.

"Tomato, to-mah-to…"

"Gentlemen," Zaring said, once again attempting to restore order.

But I wasn't done.

I picked up the stack of resignations letter that were now laying on the conference table and I waved them in front of Ross.

"Thirty-three people are putting Eames over their own careers. How many people would do that for you, huh? Because right now, I can't think of one."

"You're holding nothing but paper unless people follow through," he replied.

I stared him down for another moment, and then turned to Holt.

"Are you willing to take that risk?" I asked him. "And you know, it'll actually be thirty-four, because Eames will never stay here after so many people quit for her. You'll have an empty squad room on the eleventh floor, and you still won't have her as your media liaison."

"And it'll be awfully quiet on this floor, too," Moran added.

"I don't like being bullied," Holt replied carefully.

"Isn't that what you're doing to Eames?" I asked.

"No, it isn't," Ross interjected. "You're replacing her with a more qualified candidate and moving her into a position for which she's better suited."

"More qualified?" I asked on a laugh.

"She bungled that Schuler case," Ross said quickly. "And how many girls has the FBK slaughtered?"

"An arrest was made in the Schuler case," I corrected. "And a confession was obtained. Don't you watch the news?"

"Yeah, she got a confession, but only after she let the killer go."

"Should I bring up the Kathy Jarrow case?" Moran asked, staring pointedly at Ross.

"My point is," Ross said as color filled his cheeks. "That Eames is a good detective. Maybe even a great detective. But she's not a leader."

"Thirty-three people say otherwise," I said as I dropped the stack of letters back onto the table.

"Excuse me, Mr. Holt?"

We all looked over and saw his secretary standing in the doorway. The man couldn't seem to go anywhere without an entourage.

"What is it, Mindy?"

"You told me to let you know when Captain Eames' press conference begins. It's starting now."

Holt nodded at the secretary, so she walked over to the television that was mounted on the wall and turned it on, tuning in to the circus going on outside.

"If there's one mention of me and Eames being in some kind of affair…" I muttered viciously to Ross.

"Then you should keep your pen out of the company inkwell," he retorted.

I lunged towards him, grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket.

"Stanley," Moran said firmly.

I took a deep breath and then slowly released my grip. Ross was doing to me what he'd tried to do to Logan yesterday.

Setting the bait so that we'd write our own suspension ticket.

The prick.

"If there _is_ a mention of that, we'll know where it came from," Zaring stated, looking at Ross. "And I don't like leaks in my department."

"I didn't call any reporter," Ross replied. "If someone asks her, the information didn't come from me."

Holt shushed us and turned up the volume, and we all shifted our focus to Alex as she stood at the podium.

And no one looking at her would ever suspect that on the inside, she was surely tied up in knots over the outcome of this meeting.

"_An arrest warrant was issued for Father Ian Carson this morning, and detectives arrested him in his home. He is presently being booked on two charges of murder."_

"_Didn't one of the murders occur while Father Carson was in custody?"_

"_It appeared so at first, but due to the exemplary work of our medical examiner, we were able to determine that the time of death was actually earlier than we initially thought."_

"Damn, she looks perfect up there," Holt said. "Doesn't she look perfect?"

"If you want a pretty face, hire a model," Moran said. "She's a cop. She didn't sign on for this."

"She signed on to protect and serve," Ross spouted. "This is the _serving_ part."

"There has to be some kind of lawsuit involved in transferring a person to another department based on looks," I suggested.

"I'm sure there's a lawsuit for superior officers sleeping with their subordinates, too," Ross said smugly.

"Yeah? What about the one for assault and battery?" I warned. "And I won't mind at all. I know a good lawyer."

"Stanley," Zaring said. "Kenny, this was supposed to be a closed-door meeting."

"He's my right-hand man. I need him here," Moran said. Then he turned to Ross and added, "And you know, I wasn't sure about you before, but now I am."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That I don't want this department moving backwards. We've been working hard to weed out the bad apples."

Holt shushed us again, this time more vehemently, so we closed our mouths and looked at the TV.

"_What about FBK?"_

"_New leads have emerged,"_ she said confidently. _"I'm confident that this case will be resolved quickly."_

"She has new leads?" Holt questioned.

"Goren and Logan have made two arrests so far," I told him. "They just don't want the word out because otherwise the other four might go into hiding."

"Huh," the mayor replied thoughtfully. "And it's only been a week. Not bad."

"_Captain, I got a tip this morning about another matter that I'd like to ask you about,"_ Channel 7 said. She made it sound like she was asking permission, but then she jumped right in. _"Sources say that you're on the payroll of Italian mobster Alfredo Toscano. What do you have to say about that?"_

"_I say it's not true_," she said, and I was impressed with her composure_. "Feel free to check my bank account, Theresa. It's possible that my balance of thirty-two dollars might look suspicious to some, but I promise, I'm just a hard-working member of the NYPD."_

Several of the reporters laughed at her response and Theresa looked embarrassed.

And angry.

"_Then explain how Gino Bisetti got a walk after he killed a federal agent. And explain why two of your detectives went to another precinct yesterday in order to help Enzo Lettiere skate on murder charges."_

"_There's nothing shady about the deal that was made with Bisetti. The DA can provide you with details, and I'm sure he can also give you numbers on how often deals are made in order to catch more dangerous criminals. As for Lettiere_, _he hasn't skated on anything. He's still in lock-up at the 7__th__ precinct."_

"_But your detectives went there."_

"_Yes."_

"_Because it's a Major Case? Why would the death of a shoe salesman be deemed a Major Case?"_

"_When you're qualified to decide which cases should fall under the purview of Major Case, then apply for my boss' job, okay? Until then, I'll answer questions about_ _ongoing cases, but I'm not going to defend the decisions made."_

"_You didn't answer my question! Is the murder of Christian Newman a Major Case?"_

"_No."_

"_So why were your detectives there, if not because it was at your behest or at that of Alfredo Toscano?"_

"And there you have it," Ross said arrogantly. "That's why Eames isn't the man for the job. She can't control her detectives. She gives them so much rope that they end up hanging the whole department."

"Sir," Moran said to Holt. "You know how reporters are. There's more to this story, and you need to give her the opportunity to sort it out."

Holt stared at the screen thoughtfully while Eames continued to deflect a barrage of questions, most of which stemmed from Theresa's accusation.

"Should I remind everyone in the room that the only reason why Captain Eames even knows these people is because of her investigation into Ross' death?" I pointed out. "Not to mention the fact that there isn't a dishonest bone in her body. There's nothing to this Toscano thing."

"I need some time," Holt said at last. "Ross, take care of your pre-requisites."

Then he glanced around the room, settling his gaze first on me, then Moran, and then the stack of letters on the table.

"We'll meet again on Friday and I'll state my decision."

TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"Okay, who went to see some guy named Enzo Lettiere?"<p>

I looked up from my desk to see Wyatt standing up, doing a visual scan of the squad room while he was waiting for a response to his shouted question.

"We did," I said as I got up from my chair. "Why?"

Logan got up, too, and together we walked over to Wyatt.

"Does the captain know? Because she's taking heat for it."

He pointed to his computer screen, where he was getting a live feed of the press conference.

"Channel 7 is saying she's in bed with Toscano," he continued.

"What?" Logan yelled, and then he looked at me. "Who even knows about this? We haven't started poking around yet."

"Good question," I said thoughtfully. I held Logan's inquiring stare for a moment and then turned back to Wyatt. "She knows. We'll take care of it."

"Okay, because you know the commissioner isn't going to like this."

"I know, Wyatt."

"And there's that meeting this morning…"

"I _know_."

As if I've been able to think of much else.

And I know…Wyatt doesn't know that Alex and I were up in the middle of the night because she couldn't sleep, worrying about this damn meeting.

So I appreciate that he's worried about her.

But no one's more worried than me, especially if it's _because_ of me that things might go south.

"I'd like to have a chat with Channel 7," Logan mumbled to me as we headed back towards our desks.

"Uh huh. I want to know where she got her information."

"Seriously, Bobby, who could know? We talked about it at Pete's last night, and that's it."

"So it's the five of us, and the people we saw at the 7th."

"And probably Traci. Maas went to see her when he left us."

"She's on our side. She already filed the slander suit."

"But what do we really know about her?"

"Okay," I said with a nod. "We need to keep an open mind. Which also means we need to talk to Coleman. And Lipscomb. They both know why we were at their precinct yesterday."

"Why would one of them say something?"

"Why would anybody? And for it to have gotten to a reporter so fast…it can't be coincidental. Somebody's trying to make Alex look bad."

"You mean somebody other than Ross?"

"He'd be at the top of my list for this, but I just don't see how he'd know."

"Okay, so…where do you want to start?"

Logan waited for me to decide, watching me expectantly, but I wasn't sure of the best course of action.

Should we try to clear up the business with Enzo as quickly as possible?

Or should we hand it off to someone trustworthy, someone in another precinct, effectively removing the case from Alex's backyard?

_Or_ should we go back to trolling the Facebook pages of our victims so that we could concentrate on the FBK and not worry about Enzo at all right now?

"Hey, Goren! It's Frederick from the 3-4 on line two!" a detective called out to me.

"You know him?" Logan asked me as I reached for the phone.

"Nope," I said, and then I answered, "Detective Goren."

"Goren, Detective Frederick. I saw the sheet about your FBK. You might want to come check out my scene."

"You've got a murdered girl?"

"Yeah, but it's not just her. You're going to have to see it to believe it, but I think it might make your day."

I got the location of the crime scene and then hung up and relayed the information to Logan.

"I guess that helps us make up our minds about what to do with Enzo," I said as we headed for the elevator. "He's going to have to wait."

Half an hour later, Logan and I entered an alley in the Flatiron District.

"Meet David Locatelli," Frederick said once we badged the uni and made our way inside of the yellow tape.

"Is this what I think it is?" Logan asked.

"I'm thinking he's your FBK," Frederick said with a nod.

I immediately felt a great deal of respect for the detective because this case was on the front page of every newspaper in the tri-state area, and he could've easily tried to turn himself into an instant hero by keeping the collar for himself.

Although maybe collar isn't the right word.

Because Locatelli was definitely dead.

And of course, if Frederick had tried to take the credit, he might've ended up looking like an idiot, since there are actually multiple killers, but still…this was a huge break, and he was handing it to us.

"We appreciate the call," Logan said, his words echoing my thoughts. He knelt down next to the body and said, "So…three to the back?"

"Uh huh. And CSU found one in the front of that dumpster and another one embedded in the doorway of that restaurant over there," he explained as he pointed out the two designations. Then he turned around and gestured towards the other body in the alley and added, "And there's one in her."

"So maybe they struggled for the gun," I said. "One hit her before she managed to get it away from him. He took off running…she emptied the magazine and then bled out before she could get help."

"That's what I came up with."

"What makes you think it's our guy?" Logan asked as he and I moved towards the young woman who was mostly covered with a sheet.

"The fingertips," Frederick explained. "The sheet said the killer was using acid on the fingers, right? And smashing up the teeth?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

I knelt down and pulled back the sheet to look at the girl and then glanced up to catch Logan's eye.

"He did it pre-mortem," he stated in disgust. "And she still fought back."

"You have an ID on her?" I asked.

"No, but this guy's car is locked up tight around the corner. I figured you two would want to be the first to go through it. I looked in the window and there's a woman's purse on the backseat."

"Good," I said with a nod, my focus still on the girl. "Thanks."

"What's that in her hand?" Logan mumbled as he gloved up and reached for the girl's hand. She was clutching something, and it wasn't the gun because that was on the ground next to her, a cheap three-eighty.

I watched as Logan carefully turned her hand over and eased her fingers apart.

"Cell phone."

"Not hers," I said. "No way would she have it on her."

"So she managed to get his gun _and_ his cell phone?"

He pushed a button and then turned the phone over and fiddled with the back of it.

"The battery was jarred loose," he stated. He slipped the piece back into place and then powered it on.

"Locatelli must have dropped it, maybe when they were fighting over the gun."

"She shoots him, then drops the gun and picks up the cell to call for help, but she can't get it to work."

"And by that point, she was probably in so much pain that she couldn't think straight," I added quietly.

"Goren, get a load of this," Logan said. I stood up and walked around the girl so that I could see what he was looking at. "The son of a bitch took a picture while she was dying."

He held out the phone and I glanced at the screen.

Our victim was lying on her back with a gunshot to the abdomen. Her hands were a bloody mess and so was her face.

"He was getting proof," I posed. "For the contest. He needed evidence to show that he's the one who did it."

Logan glanced back at Locatelli's lifeless body and said, "I'd say the fact that she killed him is pretty good proof."

"He must have thought she was almost dead."

"Or maybe she played dead so that he wouldn't shoot her again."

"He stood too close while he was taking a picture…"

"She kicked him or something, got back to her feet…he dropped the cell and she grabbed the gun…"

"We need to shut this thing down," Logan said in frustration.

"I wonder what he was going to do with the picture," I said as I focused again on the phone. "Send it in a text? An email? He must have the address or number in here."

"Or he was going to post it."

"Yeah, but where? And we didn't find any pictures on Jared's phone. Or Phillip's, either."

"So they send it somewhere and then delete it."

"We've had CCS focusing on the computers, but maybe they need to spend more time on the phones. I wonder if they can recover deleted files from these things."

Two hours later, I had my answer.

"Of course," Scott told us as we stood in the messy little hole he called a workspace. "_Nothing_ is ever really gone."

"So all that porn on my laptop…" Logan joked.

"Uh huh," Scott said with a nod and a grin. "You may as well just smash the hard drive because otherwise, it's never going away."

"And phones are the same?" I asked.

"This is what I found on Jared's phone," he answered as he brought up an image on his computer screen.

It was a photo of Kaleigh Marquez and it was nearly identical to the ones on file taken by the ME at the scene.

"Guess we didn't really need the confession," Logan remarked.

"You didn't need one from Phillip Downey either," Scott told us as he switched screens and showed us the picture of Samantha Wright.

"Okay, so the photos were taken and then deleted," I said. "But do we know what they did with them?"

"We compared the LUDs," Logan reminded me. "There weren't any common numbers."

"So they uploaded it somewhere."

"I haven't found anything yet," Scott said. "Give me some more time and I'll see what I can find. And leave me the latest phone."

So we left him alone to do his research and we went back to the squad room.

I saw that Alex's office door was still closed, but now the light was on.

"Should we…um…give the captain an update?" Logan suggested, obviously noticing the same thing as me.

I nodded and kept my eyes on her office door as the two of us crossed the room.

I had a knot in my stomach as I reached out to knock on the door.

What if this is it?

What if this is her last week in Major Case?

_Our_ last week in Major Case.

Although I hadn't received any text messages from her, so maybe she doesn't know anything yet.

Surely the meeting was over by now, but it was possible that word hadn't trickled down.

And maybe it was a good sign that Ross wasn't anywhere to be found.

I finally knocked and the door immediately opened, and I was surprised to find Maas standing just inside. He must have been getting ready to leave.

"Detectives," he said in an even tone. I tried to get a read on him, but his face was inscrutable. "Progress on the FBK?"

"Yes, sir," Logan answered. "We're just about ready to give the captain an update."

"Stick around, Captain," Alex spoke up.

I turned to look at Alex and found her with a shell-shocked expression on her face.

"So…what happened?" I asked.

"Nothing," Alex said.

"Nothing at all?" Logan questioned.

"We had the meeting," Maas confirmed.

"And?"

"And apparently someone had the brilliant idea that everyone in the department should resign if I get transferred," Alex stated.

Logan looked at Maas uneasily and said, "Oh, you told her about that, huh?"

"Did you think I wouldn't find out? The mayor was set to put Ross in this office. He probably already hired a Ryder truck, and then today he suddenly changes his mind?" she asked, and I couldn't decide for sure if she was angry or touched.

But I'm leaning towards angry.

Slightly.

"So it worked?" I asked hopefully.

"For now," Maas answered. And then he grinned and said, "And you should've seen the look on Zaring's face when the chief handed him that stack. He was probably trying to calculate how long it would take him to fill thirty-three spots."

"Wait, thirty-three?" Alex asked, echoing my thoughts.

Because Major Case has twenty-four detectives and six assistants.

"That's right," Maas replied. "Thirty from here, plus me and Denise."

"Makes thirty-two."

"And the chief."

"Moran turned his in, too?" I asked in surprise. "Are you kidding me?"

Maas didn't surprise me.

Hell, even Denise didn't really, not since I knew she was on Alex's side.

But Moran?

"I didn't even ask him," Maas said. "But he'd added his to the pile by the time I got to work, and he let me come into the meeting…and I almost solved all of our problems by punching out Ross."

"Come on now, Stanley. If there's going to be hitting going on, you have to let me do it," Logan remarked.

"I held back. Barely."

"Okay, so what next?"

"Holt's going to have another meeting on Friday. He says he'll announce his decision."

"This thing with the Italians," Logan said. "It's hurting us, isn't it?"

"It's not helping," Maas said with a nod. "But we anticipated this."

"Sort of," I replied. "Not this fast. Logan and I haven't even started asking around yet."

"So who tipped off Channel 7?"

"I don't know, but we'll find out as soon as we can. We just got back from another scene."

"Another FBK victim?"

"Victim and killer. We got them both."

Logan and I filled in Maas and Alex on the latest details and then we all headed for the doorway.

"Put Enzo on the backburner," Alex instructed. "I can take the questions about the Italians. I'm not doing anything wrong."

"Doesn't always matter," Logan pointed out.

"Still…see if this new information can give you a bump."

"Drop box," Maas said suddenly.

"What?" I asked.

"Drop box. It's a program for file access," he explained. Logan and I looked at each other and he started nodding as Maas added, "It's something that can be accessed from anywhere, with the right password."

"Uh huh. I'm liking the sound of that," Logan commented.

"And the program could've been removed. Scott hasn't been looking for programs, only data," I added.

"Get on it," Alex said firmly. "If it's something like that, he can track it down and once we have access, then we'll find the other killers, assuming they've all turned in their photos."

"Yes, ma'am," Logan said quickly, and I could feel the excitement in the air.

This might be the break we've been waiting for.

I paused in the doorway and looked back at Alex.

"Um…what about Enzo and Channel 7?"

She held my gaze and I felt a nearly overpowering wave of love as she gave me a confident smile.

"Leave them to me."

TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"Man, Goren wasn't kidding, was he?"<p>

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, he said he'd do what he could to help me, but you...you're an NYPD captain."

"Yeah…"

"And I'm a button in the Toscano family."

"Uh huh," I agreed with a nod. "One who defused a bomb that probably saved the lives of myself and two detectives."

"But still…it can't look good for you to be here," Enzo said, shaking his head. "I'm not trying to cause trouble for you. I'm just asking for an untainted investigation, you know what I'm saying?"

"What makes you think you're causing trouble for me?" I asked him cautiously. "Have you spoken with someone?"

"No," he said quickly as he brought his eyes up to mine. "No. Goren and Logan came to talk to me yesterday and they told me not to talk to anyone or do anything until they got back with me. I haven't even called a lawyer yet."

"Okay," I replied with a slow nod.

"I'm just saying…I appreciate you coming here, but you shouldn't have done it. A captain, having a private sit-down with the likes of me…that can't look good. I mean, Goren was one thing. He's a cugine, right? You're the capo."

"Right now, it's not looking good for either of us."

"Why?" he asked as he hopped up from his chair. "What happened?"

"The word on the street is that I'm in Toscano's pocket. You're saying you don't know how that happened?"

"You think I was braggin' to somebody? Why would I do that? You walk away from me, and I'm screwed."

And he had a point about that.

Lipscomb had already decided that Enzo was guilty as hell, so there wasn't a lot of investigating going on. And I could tell his captain about it, maybe suggest that a more thorough look-see be taken, but if Lipscomb's heart wasn't in it, he wasn't going to find anything.

So Bobby and Logan checking it out on the side was really Enzo's best chance, and if I called them off…

"Look, I ain't gonna clip Goren if he backs out on his word, you know what I'm saying? And I definitely don't wanna get you in no trouble. I just thought…you know, he said to call, so I called."

"I'm not saying we won't help you. If you're innocent…"

"I'm innocent," he interrupted.

"Okay, then. We'll figure something out."

"So they're putting the squeeze on you?"

"Somebody's talking. I just don't know who."

"Then why the hell d'ya come here? It's gotta be cops who squealed."

"Cops? That makes you sound a little paranoid," I said with a smirk.

"I'm telling you…nobody else knows. I wasn't with no one when I got pinched, and I only called Goren."

"Okay," I said thoughtfully.

And then, since I was here and Bobby was busy, I figured I may as well take the opportunity to ask him a few questions. I knew that Bobby and Mike had gone through the basics with him, but Lipscomb had cut their chat short by insisting he had to finish processing Enzo.

"Your girlfriend's lover was found dead at three-thirty in the morning. She told the detectives that you'd found out about him the night before and that you threatened to kill him."

"Well, yeah," he said with a shrug. "He was banging my girl. What was I s'posed to do? Buy him a beer?"

"What _did_ you do?"

"We was at Ino, right? And she got the nerve to come in there with him, disrespecting me. I told Goren this."

"I know," I replied. "Humor me."

"Okay, so she acted all surprised, like she won't expecting me to be there, but she knew I was gonna be there, she just wanted to rub my nose in it, the little puttana."

"So she comes in and flaunts her new boyfriend," I summarized.

"That's one way of putting it."

"And then what?"

"He got up in my face and told me to leave his girl alone. _His_ girl," he finished angrily, and then he spouted off a stream of Italian, the meaning of which I could only take an educated guess.

"Enzo, what happened next?"

"The guy's a fucking mortadella, right? I told him he comes around me again and it'll take a coupla bottles of Elmer's and some duct tape to put him back together, you know what I'm saying?"

"You threatened to blow him up."

"Bombs," he said with a shrug. "It's what I do."

"Do you own a knife?"

"What are you fucking kidding me? Of course I own a knife. Who don't own a knife?"

"But you don't keep it on you, do you?"

"No, and that's exactly what I told Detective Dumbass in there."

I knew he was telling the truth because that night in the warehouse, Enzo needed a knife to cut the wires on the bomb, and so he'd pulled Bobby's out of Hassan's thigh.

"You keep it at home?"

He shrugged and nodded, so I said, "You know it was your knife that was found in the victim, right? That's why Lipscomb thinks it's you. Well, that and the threat."

"I threatened to _blow_ him up, not _carve_ him up," he retorted logically.

And despite our topic, it was really hard not to like the guy.

He might be a criminal of sorts, but he's honest.

"Okay, so who would've had access to your home?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

I stared at him hard and he was instantly contrite.

"Angela," he admitted. "She's got a key to my place."

"Anybody else?"

"Not that I can think of."

"Okay," I said with a nod. "We'll send someone out to talk to Angela and find out if she has an alibi. You told Goren you were home alone that night?"

"Yeah. Great alibi, I know, right? And who's gonna believe a wiseguy like me?"

Good question.

But for whatever reason, I believe him.

If he was guilty, I don't think he'd go through the trouble of calling in this kind of marker.

In fact, if he'd killed the guy, why would he leave his knife at the scene?

It had the basic smack of set-up that Lipscomb should've seen from the get-go.

"Hang tight, Enzo. I'm going to work on getting you out of here."

"I appreciate that. Gino was definitely right about you."

"Oh, don't get me wrong. If I find out you're blowing smoke up my ass, I won't think twice about recommending a life sentence."

"I like you, Captain," he said with a smile, seemingly not worried at all about my threat. "But it sounds like you got bigger problems than me right now. It can't be good for a cop to be accused of hanging with the likes of Toscano. Is it because of the deal you got Gino?"

"That's part of it," I admitted. "And now this thing with you…"

"I'm telling you. It's cops. Lipscomb or that broad that come by while Goren and his partner was in here."

"Broad? You mean Detective Coleman?"

A guess, but probably a good one. She was still scoping out Logan, according to Bobby, so it stood to reason that she might have found a purpose for walking past the holding cells.

"I don't know her name. Hot little number though."

"Okay. Thanks. I'll get back with you later today."

I left Enzo and went out into the squad room, debating my next course of action.

I should probably start with the captain, but I also wanted to feel out Lipscomb.

And Coleman.

And she was easy to spot, since I had Enzo's description, because there was only one woman in the entire squad room who could possibly be labeled as a hot little number.

"Detective Coleman?" I inquired as I approached her desk.

She looked up slowly but when she saw my face, her eyes flashed quickly to my ID, I guess to check the name, and then she quickly jumped to her feet.

"Captain Eames! It's such a pleasure to meet you," she said, throwing me off guard with her eager greeting. "I've heard so much about you, and of course, I've been seeing you on the news, and…I'm sorry. I don't mean to go on and on, it's just…really a pleasure."

"Thank you," I replied uncertainly, not used to having such an enthusiastic fan.

"What can I do for you? Are you here on a case? Because I'm kind of between cases right now, so if there's any way that I can help…"

"You can point out Detective Lipscomb."

"Oh. Oh, you're here about Enzo Lettiere, aren't you?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Detective Logan was here yesterday. Him and his partner. They went back and talked to Enzo for a little while."

"Uh huh," I hummed encouragingly.

"Yeah, something about wanting to help him skate. I don't know exactly. Lipscomb was bitching about it after they left."

Skate.

Interesting that her wording was the same as Theresa's.

"How so?" I asked her.

"Oh, you know. The typical. _Major Case thinks they're so special_. That kind of crap. But you know," she said in a hushed tone. "I applied to Major Case. I thought I had a real shot at it, but I guess that spot went to Logan."

"Huh. Well, that doesn't mean you can't try again next time."

"As soon as there's an opening," she said confidently. "I don't suppose…I mean, would it be okay if I put your name down? You know, as a reference?"

"I'm sorry, Detective, but I just met you two minutes ago."

"I'm sure Logan will vouch for me."

"Then maybe you should put him down. But you might want to ask him first."

"Yeah, I don't mean to sound presumptuous or anything. I just…I want Major Case, and I thought if the captain there requested me…"

"I understand," I replied. "But you know, withholding evidence from another department isn't really the best way to get in the good graces of the brass."

I'd brought it up to poke at her, to see how she reacted to the knowledge that I knew about the business card, but I wasn't anticipating the barely-controlled tantrum that I got.

"Oh, so he told you about that, huh? It was a mistake. An oversight. It could happen to anyone. Man, what a jerk. You know, I think it's probably some kind of personal vendetta against me. Because…did he tell you about us?"

"By _he_, do you mean Detective Logan? Because he's not the one who mentioned the business card."

"It wasn't…he didn't?"

"No, and I don't really care about what type of personal relationship you may have had with him in the past, but the fact that you didn't tell the investigating detectives that you had met with a victim two days prior to her murder, when she tried to file a missing persons report…well, that's more than an oversight."

She stared at me for a long minute, as though she was having trouble accepting the fact that I was disappointed in her.

But I was more than that.

Now I was more than a little suspicious of her because her attitude toward Logan wasn't what I'd expected.

According to both Bobby and Logan, she'd acted like she couldn't wait to rekindle. And now, she'd tossed him to the wolves without a second thought, only moments after saying he'd vouch for her.

"I'm sorry. My reaction was unprofessional," she said at last. "Please accept my apology."

"It's fine," I deflected. "Um…Detective Lipscomb?"

"He's out somewhere. I don't know," she said.

"Great," I replied. I reached in my pocket and pulled out a business card and handed it to her. "Can you have him give me a call?"

I was doubtful that my card would find its way into Lipscomb's hands, but that was fine. I was going to talk to the captain anyway, and I could only hope that he'd pass on my request.

So I left Coleman and headed for the office of Captain Paulson.

"Captain Eames," he greeted guardedly. "I heard you were in the house. What can I do for you?"

"I just had a little chat with Enzo Lettiere."

"Big surprise," he said as his face darkened. "Toscano's boy, right?"

"I guess you saw the news this morning," I replied. "I was hoping I'd have a little more support from a colleague."

"I just don't need your mess in my precinct."

"My mess?"

"This Enzo character."

"He was picked up by one of your detectives. The investigation was shoddy at best. Am I supposed to just look the other way?"

"I guess not. That's not why they pay you, is it?"

I sighed heavily as I reined in my temper.

Getting mad wasn't going to help at the moment.

"You and I both know that the press likes to blow things out of proportion. Wasn't it just a few months ago that they caught wind of you falsifying your credentials in order to get your position?"

Boy, if I thought his face was red before…

He hopped up from his chair and stabbed his finger in the air, pointing in my direction as he shouted.

"That was a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit, and you know it! I've jumped through every hoop necessary to be a captain, just like you!"

"I know," I said quietly.

"And that reporter just had a hard-on for me because…"

"I know," I said more firmly. "So…"

"So it's the same thing with you," he conceded. "Yeah, okay. Point taken."

"Look, Enzo helped me out during an investigation a couple of weeks ago. I promised to return the favor. I'm not looking to set a guilty man free, but if he's innocent…"

"I hear you."

"And what I really need to know is who in your house might have called in the tip."

"You think it's one of my people?"

"No one else knew," I stated, although that wasn't entirely true. I hadn't been able to rule out Traci yet, but Stanley was a good friend, and I had to trust his judgment.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Pull the LUDs from the squad room."

"That's it?"

"For now. I need to know who's put the target on my back."

"And what do I get out of the bargain?"

"A friend in Major Case," I offered.

He held my gaze for a moment as he mulled over my request and then he gave me a nod.

"Give me a couple of hours."

TBC...


	32. Chapter 32

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"Twelve."<p>

"Yes, ma'am."

"How did we not know this?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe the others happened in Jersey. Or Connecticut. Hell, it could be anywhere."

The three of us stood in the conference room that Bobby and I had commandeered so that we could spread out the evidence.

It was Monday afternoon and Alex had just returned from a visit to the 7th precinct.

"_Did he get around to telling you about the knife?_" she asked us when she first got back.

"_No. Lipscomb didn't really appreciate us talking to him."_

"_He doesn't normally carry it on him. And we know that. He didn't have one that night in the warehouse."_

"_Which means he leaves it at home. Who has access?"_

"_The cheating girlfriend, Angela."_

"_So he thinks she killed her lover and set him up for it? Why would she do that?"_

"_I don't know. Maybe there's a third lover and this was her way of getting rid of the first two."_

"_You want us to go talk to her?"_

"_No, you two have your hands full with this case. Yuille and Wyatt are done with Schuler. I'll let them go. I've already asked Liz to take a look at the ME's report."_

"_What's Lipscomb going to say about that?"_

"_I don't really care. If he'd done his job, then we wouldn't have to do it for him. And I let Paulson know we were going to ask a few follow-up questions. He's on board."_

"_What about the leak? You think it's Lipscomb?"_

"_No,"_ she replied, and then she looked at me with concern. "_I think it's Coleman."_

"_Michelle? What could she possibly have against you?"_

"_Nothing. I think her intent was to get you into trouble. But the deal that Gino got has already been brought up at a previous press conference, so when Coleman called Theresa and mentioned that a Major Case detective was sniffing around Enzo, Theresa ran with it and put the focus on me."_

"_Are you sure about that, Boss?"_

"_No, I'm not. But Paulson agreed to pull his precinct's LUDs. Of course, the call could've come from a cell, but I'm betting not. A cell phone would definitively tie an individual to a specific call. Using a squad room phone would give the guilty party room to cast doubt that anyone could've used that line."_

"_True. So how are you going to pin it to her, even if Channel 7's number shows up?"_

"_I'm not sure. But if it does, then Paulson won't be able to deny that he's got a leak, and I'll get his complete support."_

I was having a hard time believing that Michelle would do something like that.

Not that I really know her all that well.

Because honestly, I guess I don't.

Having seen her naked doesn't give me any great insight into her psyche.

But she's been coming on to me…she supposedly wanted to hook up with me again.

So why would she try to trash my reputation?

"Anyone, anywhere," Alex agreed, bringing my focus back to the present.

"That's the beauty of the internet," Bobby mumbled as he picked up one report after another, skimming each one's contents.

Alex stared at the bulletin board that was chock full of photos of dead girls, the pictures that Scott had found in a private file on a program called Automator.

"_The deputy chief thought of this_?" Scott had asked after we suggested Drop Box. "_I guess he's more than just a paper-pusher, huh?"_

"_So it's a viable consideration?"_

"_It's genius. Give me some time. I'll find it."_

And like I said, it turned out to be Automator instead of Drop Box, but it's essentially the same thing.

And Scott had turned up eleven pictures when we were only expecting six. The twelfth was that of Janie Barbour, the girl who'd managed to kill her attacker before he'd been able to upload her photo.

"Or it's in the city and detectives aren't paying attention to the sheets," Alex posed.

"That's a possibility," Bobby replied. "Especially if the other ones happened before we got our hands on it. Because you know, if we hadn't taken the case from Decker, we wouldn't have known about Kaleigh Marquez. He was ready to toss her file in the trash."

She nodded thoughtfully, her gaze still on the pictures.

"What can Scott tell us about where the uploads came from?"

"He's working on it. He thinks he can track the URLs used to upload the jpegs."

"Better yet, can he track the one that set up the account?"

"He's working on that, too."

"So do we know anything at all about these other girls?"

"Not yet, but we've gotten the word out to every precinct in the tri-state area. Hopefully some calls will start coming in."

"And until then?"

"I might have something," Bobby said.

He'd picked up a report a moment ago and I watched him as he scanned through it with purpose.

"Liz said that urine was actually cat urine, right?"

"The sample from one of the girl's fingers?" Alex questioned.

"Yeah, Sally O'Hara," I confirmed.

"This guy…Justin Delaney. He's on her friend list, and he works at an animal shelter."

"That's a stretch, don't you think?"

"J.D.," I said with a nod. "Erin had a date with a guy named J.D."

"So he knew both girls? Do you think he killed them both? What substance did Erin have on her?"

I snagged the report from the table, although in all honesty, I know it by heart.

But this was too important to go from memory, so I wanted to see it in black and white.

"Lemon juice," I stated.

"Commonly used to eliminate cat box odor," Bobby commented.

"And Albert the perv said Erin had a dog, but we haven't found any dog," I added.

"A normal killer wouldn't care about the animal, but maybe this guy took it to the shelter," Bobby suggested, and I started nodding, but Alex furrowed her brow and tilted her head, looking back and forth between us.

"So he cares enough not to leave a dog abandoned but he brutally murders two girls?"

"I'm not saying it makes sense, Boss. But this guy's on Sally's friend list, and he has the same initials as Erin's date…he'd be around cat pee at work…"

I trailed off and just watched as Alex stared at Bobby for a minute and then she said, "Okay. Bring him in."

I grabbed my jacket and left the conference room with Bobby hot on my heels.

"You really think this is our guy?" I asked him as we stopped at our desks so that we could pull up the information on our suspect.

"Good chance," he replied, his eyes on the computer screen. "Here we go. 55 Liberty Street."

"Lower Manhattan. Same neighborhood as Sally," I remarked.

"And near where Sally's body was dumped. But Erin lived in SoHo."

"And died there," I added. "But we know Sally had been to Erin's apartment in the week prior to her death. Maybe he followed her there."

"And he killed Erin instead of Sally because she was more of a stranger?"

"So then why go back and kill Sally?"

"Maybe he liked it. You know, the repeat dump site in Corlears…"

Our last Jane Doe, from Thursday afternoon.

We still couldn't ID her, but Bobby had a point about it being suspicious that random killers would use the same dump site.

"Maybe he _really_ liked it," I suggested.

"We can't check her friend list because we don't know who she is, but we can reverse check his friend list."

"And what? Make sure every girl on there is still alive?"

"If we can't get him to talk, then yeah."

"I vote for getting him to talk," I said. "Let's go."

So we headed for Lower Manhattan and since we were going into her territory, I couldn't help but let my mind drift back to Michelle.

And then, because I felt guilty for thinking about her, even though I was only thinking about her in the sense of _what the hell is she up to_, I pulled out my phone as soon as I was at a stoplight so that I could type a quick text to Liz.

_**If we can both get off this weekend, let's go away somewhere.**_

I put my phone back in my pocket as the light turned green, so I stepped on the gas and thought about where I wanted to take her.

Somewhere nice.

And relaxing.

With no dead bodies and no Ross and no interruptions.

And an endless supply of chocolate.

My phone buzzed with her response, so I pulled it out and read her message.

_**Hershey, Pennsylvania?**_

I barked out a laugh and ignored Bobby's inquisitive look while I drove one-handed and typed in a reply.

"You shouldn't text and drive," he remarked.

"I know," I said as I finished typing _**YES!**_ and then I promised, "Won't happen again. So did Alex say anything more about the resignation letters?"

"She's honored. And surprised. And ticked."

"Ticked?"

"You know her. She doesn't want other people fighting her battles."

"This is different."

"That's what I said. And she's fine, really. I think she's actually pretty touched that so many people are behind her."

"Well, Stanley seemed to get a kick out of it. And what about Moran? I never thought for a second that he'd throw his into the mix."

"She doesn't take any shit from him. He likes that. Ross always acted like a lapdog, agreeing with everything he said."

"I wonder what he's up to today. I guess he disappeared after the meeting."

"If he's smart, he's working on his resume."

We finally made it to Liberty Street, and I found a place to park near Justin's building.

"Eighth floor this time," he commented as we got out. "I'm guessing this guy won't try to jump out the window."

"Unless we're lucky," I joked.

But we weren't.

Lucky, I mean.

And I don't mean about whether or not our suspect tried to off himself by jumping from an eight-story window.

We were standing in the lobby, waiting for the elevator, when the front door opened and in walked Justin Delaney.

"How're you doing, Justin?" I asked when his steps faltered as he easily made us.

My hand gravitated to my weapon, and I'm sure Bobby's did the same, but I didn't bother to look.

Instead, I stayed focused on our suspect as he stood stock still just inside of the building. We were a good fifteen feet away from him, and I really didn't want this thing to turn into a foot race.

He took one step backwards and that's when Bobby and I both drew our guns.

"Stop right there," he instructed. "NYPD. We just want to talk to you."

Justin paused for another second and then he turned and shoved his way through the door and took off down the sidewalk.

"Shit," I muttered as we both took off after him, through the doors, out onto the sidewalk.

"Over there!" Bobby shouted, pointing to the fleeing figure on the other side of the street.

"You go! I'll try to get in front!"

So Bobby sprinted across the street, nearly getting run over by two different cars, while I went straight up the sidewalk, hoping to get slightly ahead and maybe cut him off.

Foot traffic was heavy and running was a challenge. New Yorkers don't really care if they're blocking a police pursuit and I slammed into several people before I heard Bobby call out.

"Logan!"

I paused and looked across the street just as Bobby turned down an alley, so then I ran out into traffic, causing a cacophony of car horns and cursing. A taxi skidded to a halt about half a second too late, and his bumper rammed into my leg, but I kept going because I couldn't see Bobby anymore.

I still had my gun out, but as I approached the alley, I brought it up and slowed my pace as I made my way down the trash-filled deserted space.

"You don't want to do that," I heard Bobby say. "Just put it down."

I slipped through the chain link fence at the back of the alley and found Bobby and Justin in a stand-off. I hadn't expected him to be carrying a piece, but he was pointing a big forty-five right at Bobby's chest.

I leveled my weapon at Justin's head as I stepped up next to my partner and I reiterated his statement.

"You heard the man. Put it down, Justin."

"But I'm _winning_," he insisted. "I can't quit now."

"What are you winning?" Bobby asked him in a calm voice. "What's the prize?"

Justin smiled at him and said, "A million dollars, man. And it's mine in two more days."

"Because the competition ends? There was a time limit?"

"Three weeks."

"So which one did it for you?"

"Huh?"

"Erin? Or Sally? Which one is going to make you the million bucks?"

"Or maybe it's neither," Bobby added. "Maybe it's the other one, that last one."

"You don't even know her name."

"Neither do you, I bet," Bobby taunted. "What's the matter, did you screw something up with the first two, so you had to try for a third?"

"I didn't screw anything up."

"Well, you're about to, if you don't put down the gun. I'd hate to have to shoot you when you're about ready to come into some money," I told him.

"Oh, like I'm going to get to keep it if I'm in jail. I'm sure there are laws about profiting from a crime, right?"

"So you're not as dumb as you look," Bobby stated. "Good. Then don't be dumb now. Put down the gun."

Justin lowered his gun slightly and Bobby eased his weapon into his holster as he took a step closer to the suspect, with his hand outstretched.

"Good," he coaxed while I maintained my aim. "That's right. We just want to talk to you."

"Can't do it," Justin said at the last second, and he brought his weapon back up, aimed again at Bobby's chest.

"Get down!" I shouted, and I squeezed off two rounds just as Justin pulled the trigger.

Bobby dropped like a rock, but whether it was from my command or from Justin's bullets, I wasn't sure, and my heart was in my throat as I quickly glanced at the suspect to confirm that he was dead and then I dropped to my knees next to my partner.

TBC...


	33. Chapter 33

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>"I'm not sure what I'll be able to tell you."<p>

"Something."

"Something like...there's no way Enzo did it?"

"That'd be nice," Alex answered with a smirk.

She'd come down to the morgue about fifteen minutes ago to see what, if anything, I'd been able to ascertain from the ME's report on Christian Newman, the guy supposedly killed by Enzo Lettiere.

"Well, is he capable of stabbing a guy three times in the chest?"

"Yeah."

"Then he could be your killer."

"Come on, Liz."

"I'm sorry, Alex, but there's not much more to go on. The guy was naked. No usable trace evidence was gathered. The knife was still sticking out of his chest when he was found, and that knife belongs to Enzo."

"And the prints on it?"

"They're…smeared," I admitted.

"So not wiped clean and it's possible that whoever used it wore gloves."

"It's possible."

"What about the angle of entry?"

"The killer was on top of him. See right here?" I asked as I pointed to a spot in the photo. "Bruising around the upper arms, but not from hands. I think your killer was sitting on the victim's chest and he was using his knees to pin down the victim's shoulders."

"I can't picture Enzo sitting on top of a naked guy," she said smartly. "That sounds more like the position of a woman to me, don't you think? Someone smaller, who would need to use her body weight as leverage."

"I don't disagree. I'm just saying that from the evidence…wait a minute."

"What?"

I glanced up at her and rolled my eyes.

"Wait. A minute," I said with a half-smile. I stared hard at the picture again and then flipped over to the written report. "Here."

"What?" she asked again, moving closer so that she could see what I was looking at.

"Additional minor bruising on the mid-bicep of the victim's right arm," I said, pointing to the area on the picture.

"The killer was leaning over, so he had his hand down for additional support," she said.

"Very good, Captain. The light red strips…it coincides with the killer's fingers. The size would indicate someone with small hands. I don't know how big this Enzo guy is, but I might be able to rule him out, if his fingers are too broad to have made the marks."

"And it would've been the killer's left hand, right?"

"Yep."

"Then you don't need to worry about ruling him out," she said with a smile.

"Why not?"

"There are four marks."

"Right. Four fingers."

"Enzo only has three."

I raised my eyebrow at her and she shrugged and said, "Occupational hazard, apparently."

"Well, that's it then. You can clear him."

"It's enough for me, but I'm not sure it'll be enough for the press. It sure would be nice to get a confession out of the real killer."

"Angela the girlfriend?"

"Uh huh. I sent Wyatt and Yuille out to pick her up."

"Yuille's really turned around, hasn't he?"

"So far, so good. He and Wyatt are working well together, and I haven't had any more problems with him. And he went from trying to get me fired to threatening to quit if I get transferred, so…"

"All good signs," I agreed. "That was quite the stunt they pulled, huh?"

"You knew about it, didn't you?"

I nodded and she added, "You know, that's the kind of thing friends tell each other."

"Not when I'm sworn to secrecy. Mike was afraid if you heard about it ahead of time that you'd put an end to it."

"I would have."

"Exactly. And then Danny would be getting photographed for his new ID just because Holt is a sexist moron."

She laughed and shook her head and said, "I don't think he's sexist. It's not that he thinks I can't do the captain's job because I'm a woman."

"No, but he wants to put you in a different position because the press likes the way you look," I reminded her.

"Okay, so he's sort of sexist. But really, that doesn't bother me as much as it probably should. I just wish he'd see the big picture."

"I bet he's seeing it now."

"We'll see. Friday's the day."

"So Wyatt and Yuille are handling Angela. Where are Bobby and Mike? I got a text a little bit ago, but he didn't say what they're up to."

"They got a lead on another suspect. Actually, they think this guy might be responsible for two of the victims."

"Any luck on finding the man behind the curtain?"

"Not so far," she admitted.

She leaned back against a table while I went back to the body I'd been working on when she arrived. She seemed to be in the mood for conversation, and I didn't mind accommodating her.

We don't get nearly enough time to talk, just the two of us, so if she wanted to spend a few extra minutes down here with me, then I'm all for it.

I glanced around the room to make sure we were still alone, and then I asked, "So you and Bobby are really thinking about getting married?"

"That's the plan. And you know, if on Friday we both end up unemployed then maybe we'll just take off somewhere and do it. We'll worry about finding new jobs when we get back."

"Sounds romantic."

"You should try it," she said with a smirk.

"Me? No. I'm not getting married again."

"I thought things were going good between you and Mike."

"They are. Really good. But he doesn't want to be married, and I can appreciate that. And we're happy like we are, so what's the big deal?"

I looked up from my work and found her studying me, but after a moment she nodded her head and said, "I can understand that. I mean, if it doesn't happen with me and Bobby, it won't really change anything."

"Exactly. Although Mike did mention us getting away for the weekend. If work doesn't spoil it."

"This weekend? Where are you going?"

"I made a joke about going to Hershey, but I honestly have no idea. He just said he'd like to go somewhere and I'm not going to turn down the chance to get away from the city for a while."

"So it's just about getting away?"

"Well, that and forty-eight hours of uninterrupted time with Mike," I added with a grin.

"That's what I thought," she said smugly. "Yeah…time with no interruptions. That would be nice."

"It's been a trying couple of weeks, hasn't it?"

"You're not kidding. And now…waiting for Holt to make up his mind…I just really hate this."

"Not to mention that someone spoke with the press about Enzo. Do you have any leads on who might be responsible?"

"Um…yeah," she said hesitantly.

"It's not Danny, is it? I mean, I know he's been acting like a jerk, but I just can't believe he'd stoop that low, to accuse you of something like that. He knows you. He knows you're not on the take."

"Apparently he doesn't know I'm not sleeping with various colleagues, though," she pointed out.

"Yeah," I admitted. "It just floors me that this is who he's become. He was bad before, but he wasn't this bad. So you think it _is_ him?"

"No. I think it's Detective Coleman."

"What? Why?"

"She…desperately wants into Major Case."

"Then why in the world would she want to trash you? I'd think befriending you might've been a better way in."

"Oh, she tried to do that."

"So you met her in person?"

I couldn't help myself.

My curiosity was through the roof.

"I did, yes. Earlier today."

"And?"

"She's okay," she said ambiguously.

"Alex…" I said in a threatening voice.

She looked at me with amusement and crossed her arms over her chest as she asked, "What do you want to know, Liz?"

"Can I take her?"

She barked out a laugh and nodded her head.

"In a second. And I don't just mean that you could kick her ass, although you could."

I raised an eyebrow at her and she continued, "You're smarter than her and you're prettier than her."

"I'm not asking you to make stuff up," I deflected.

"I'm not. I'm just stating the facts. And besides, she's slightly psycho."

"Slightly?"

"I don't think she called Channel 7 because she wanted to hurt my reputation. I think she's trying to ruin Mike's."

"But…then why did she want him back?"

"My best guess? She hit on him before she realized he was Major Case, and then when she figured out that it wasn't going to work, she thought she could accomplish two things at once. Get him back for rejecting her, and take his spot in the department."

"What a little bitch," I muttered.

"Uh huh. I'm not sure she realizes it yet, but she's obviously just screwed herself out of any chance she might have had. To get Major Case, I mean. Not Mike. There was never any chance of that."

"It's always something, isn't it?" I remarked in annoyance.

"But never anything we can't handle," she said confidently. "Honestly, I'm starting to think that a week without some kind of scandal or conflict would just bore me to tears."

I laughed at her sarcasm and then looked up when I heard the door open.

"Hey, Doc," Sarah began as she came in the room, and then she saw Alex and pulled up short. "Oh, hi. Captain Eames, right? I'm Sarah. I saw your press conference this morning."

"Well, don't believe everything you see on TV."

"Oh, no…I didn't mean…I don't think…"

"You don't think I'm on the mafia's payroll? Good to know."

"I definitely don't think that. I know that Dr. Rodgers thinks the world of you, and besides, that bitch on Channel 7 is probably just jealous."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," I added. "So what do you need?"

"We just got a call," she said as she turned sideways and patted the backpack she had over her shoulder. "I'm ready to go if you are."

"Give me just a minute," I told her as I pulled off my gloves. "I'll catch you later, Alex. I think you got what you need, right?"

"You've been helpful, as always," she replied as her phone started buzzing.

"Uh huh. I think it was Enzo who was helpful," I answered as she checked the text. "I bet he never guessed how much it would benefit him when he blew off one of his fingers."

She chuckled at me and held up her phone and said, "Good timing. Wyatt and Yuille are back with Angela. They've got her in an interrogation room."

"Good luck with that," I said, at the same time that Sarah said, "Yuille?"

Alex was almost out the door, but she paused and turned around, looking at Sarah inquisitively.

"Yeah, why? What about him?"

"Oh, nothing," she answered quickly, and then she looked at me guiltily, as though she'd just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"What it is?" I encouraged her.

"I was just wondering if he's…you know. Single," she said at last. "I'm sorry. It's probably unprofessional of me to ask you that."

"Oh," Alex said, breathing out a sigh of relief. "No, it's fine. I thought you were going to say that he'd done something."

"Why? Isn't he a nice guy?"

"He is," she replied. "Or at least, I'm pretty sure he is. Just the way you said his name…I thought maybe something was wrong."

"No. So…is he?"

"Single? Yes, as far as I know."

"Interesting," Sarah said, looking at me with a smile. "Because I don't think he looks that old."

"He's not," Alex confirmed. Then she glanced at me and said, "I'll check in with you later, okay? Maybe we can meet for dinner."

I nodded at her, and then I asked Sarah, "So, where are we going?"

"Lower Manhattan. An alley off Liberty Street."

"Liberty?" Alex asked, stopping again in the doorway, only this time sounding alarmed.

She immediately pulled out her phone and started dialing.

"Yeah, why?" I asked her.

"Dammit, no answer," she said as she started dialing another number. Then she looked at me with concern and said, "That's where Mike and Bobby went to pick up their suspect."

TBC...


	34. Chapter 34

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I stood and reminded myself to breathe at regular intervals.<p>

But it wasn't easy.

Not when I could easily picture how things might've gone differently.

As it was, I was staring at Bobby as he sat on the bumper of an ambulance while an EMT dabbed at the raw stripe along his temple.

The spot where the bullet had whizzed past his head.

Half an inch lower and he'd be in the back of Liz's van right now.

Instead, her assistants were currently scooping up Justin Delaney, courtesy of Logan.

I glanced over my shoulder to where Mike was leaning against the wall, seemingly working diligently, just like me, to breathe.

"Detective," an officer said as he approached Logan. "I need your weapon."

"I'll handle it," I spoke up. I turned back to Bobby and gave him a meaningful look and then headed over to where an officer from the 7th was standing in an adversarial position in front of Mike.

"Ma'am, it's standard procedure," the officer argued, looking me up and down carefully as I approached.

"It's captain," I corrected. "And I'm aware of the procedure. It involves his superior officer taking charge of his weapon until he's cleared by IAB, so when I say I'll handle it, I mean _I'll handle it_."

"Yes, ma'am," the officer said, throwing up his hands and backing off. "I'll place the call to IAB."

"You do that."

The officer pulled out his phone as he walked away and then I met Logan's gaze.

"You okay?" I asked him.

"You mean is my heart rate back to normal? No, not yet."

"I guess now I have to believe that range qualification report, huh?" I remarked in an effort to ease the tension of the moment.

He barked out a rough laugh and said, "Not really. I was aiming for his shooting hand."

Which was a lie and we both knew it.

He'd gone for the kill shot.

It wasn't ever a cop's first choice, but if it meant saving another life, then it was necessary.

And judging by the wound on Bobby's temple, it had been absolutely necessary.

"I'd kiss you right now if I didn't think we'd end up on Channel 7," I told him quietly as he handed over his forty-five.

"I promise to make it a good show," he teased back.

But his expression was still grave and I watched him as his eyes strayed back to the ambulance.

"I knew I could count on you to have his back," I told him.

"I almost didn't."

"But you did. Take a minute to breathe and once IAB gets here, we'll go through it with them, and then you can go, okay?"

"No. We need to get over to Delaney's apartment. We think maybe he killed the last Jane Doe, too. We have to go through his stuff."

"Okay," I said with a slow nod. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Liz coming towards us. "Just take a minute first. I'll call CSU and have them meet us there once we're done here."

I put my hand on his forearm and squeezed for just a moment and then turned and went back to Bobby.

The EMT was just finishing up.

"It's a good thing you've got a hard head," I said, working hard to keep my voice from cracking.

"I do seem to have a bull's-eye on it," he agreed. "Yesterday it was a laptop…today a bullet…"

"Maybe you should start wearing a helmet."

"Not a bad idea, Detective," the EMT said as he packed up his supplies. "But for now, just keep that area clean and starting tomorrow morning, let it get some air, okay? Take ibuprofen if you need it."

"You need it," I said as together we walked away from the ambulance. "It makes my head hurt just looking at it."

"I'm fine," he replied in a low tone.

And he didn't just mean that he didn't want ibuprofen.

He was telling me that he was _fine_. So maybe my mask wasn't as firmly in place as I'd hoped.

Or maybe Bobby just knows me so well that he can see right through it.

I wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him…to rest my cheek against his chest and hear the thud of his strong heartbeat in my ear…but we had a job to do first.

"Tell me what happened," I stated once we'd moved about twenty yards away from where Logan was standing. Liz was just now leaving him, since her assistants had everything ready to go, and I watched her for a moment as she went over to Sarah and said something to her and then Sarah reached into her pocket. She handed over a pack of cigarettes, which Liz then gave to Mike.

He was _definitely_ rattled.

Which confirmed for me just exactly how hairy the situation had been.

"Or do you need one of those first?" I continued, tipping my head towards Mike, who was shaking a cigarette out from the pack.

I didn't wait for his answer because the look on his face was enough, so I walked over to Mike and snagged one of the cigarettes and the lighter and then went back to Bobby.

Protocol says that the officers involved in a shooting shouldn't talk to each other prior to being interviewed by IAB, which was often times pretty unrealistic, since the officers would normally be alone together from the time of the shooting until the first responders arrived, but still…I'd follow protocol from here on out.

I'd keep them separated until their statements were taken.

I waited while Bobby lit the cigarette and took a few deep drags and then he started talking.

"I thought I had him talked down," he admitted in conclusion. "He told us that he was winning the competition. A million dollars."

"Are you kidding me? Somebody's footing a purse like that? It should narrow our suspect pool then, don't you think? How many people can afford that?"

"I don't know," he answered with a shrug. "But Justin won't be telling us anything."

"Logan says he thinks Justin killed the last Jane Doe, too. What do you think?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding his head. "I brought her up, and he didn't deny it. He didn't deny Erin or Sally, either."

"So he killed three of them."

"I think so. But obviously we can't question him about Jane Doe. If we don't find something in his apartment, we may never know her identity. You've been running her picture on the news for days now and no one's claimed her."

That kind of thing really bothers him.

I mean, it bugs me, too, but it _really_ bothers him.

The idea that someone can go missing and no one cares. I think that for a long time, he thought that was how his life would be.

If something happened to him, no one would notice, and no one would care.

And I think by now he knows that's not true.

I mean, he'd _better_ know or I'll have to kick his ass.

But I can still appreciate how important it is to him that this girl doesn't go unclaimed.

"We'll figure it out, okay?" I said soothingly. "You know I'm not going to ask you to quit looking, even after you've found the killer. The case stays open until all of the girls have been identified."

Shortly thereafter, IAB arrived, and I stood by each of my detectives as they gave their statements.

It was fairly cut and dried and Logan's weapon was returned to him almost immediately.

But it was still eight-thirty before I finally got the chance to do what I'd been wanting to do since I'd laid eyes on Bobby, with blood trickling down the side of his face as he sat on the back of that ambulance.

"Go get drinks, Stanley," I said, my eyes tracking Bobby as he walked through Pete's ahead of Mike.

"Huh?" he replied, but I didn't take the time to explain, or to wait and see if he followed my directive.

Instead, I got up and met Bobby as he approached the table. I wrapped my arms around him and held on tight. I felt him exhale and bring me even closer, and then his hand slipped up into my hair, an encouragement for me to pull back enough so that he could kiss me.

As if I needed encouragement for that.

_Half an inch_, my mind supplied as I kissed him thoroughly…almost desperately.

Half an inch and I would've lost him.

Or if Logan had been a split-second slower, or if his aim had been off…

"I'm okay," Bobby whispered after we broke off the kiss and I once again held him tightly with my cheek against his chest.

"I know," I replied. And then I took a deep breath, reached up to give him one more quick kiss, and then I moved away and sat down at the table.

"I thought _I _was the one getting the kiss," Logan joked once Bobby and I were both settled across from him, so then I stood back up and leaned across the table and, taking his cheeks my hands, I planted one square on his mouth.

"Thank you," I said as I sat back down and took Bobby's hand in mine.

"I…um…"

"You've rendered him speechless," Bobby commented. "If I'd known that was all it took, I would've kissed him weeks ago."

I couldn't help but laugh at his comment, and I felt a tremendous wave of relief, just knowing that today was behind us.

I'd wanted to go to Delaney's apartment with Bobby and Mike, but as we'd started to leave the scene, I'd gotten a call.

_"Captain, we've had Angela in the room for more than an hour, and she's not saying a word,"_ Yuille told me.

_"Does she have an alibi?"_

_"I don't mean she's not confessing anything. I mean she hasn't opened her mouth. Not once. She's just sitting there."_

_"Okay,"_ I answered thoughtfully. _"Um…how big is she?"_

_"How big?_" he questioned.

_"Is she a large woman or average or petite?"_ I elaborated.

_"Uh…I'd guess her to be about the same size as you."_

_"Are you two going at her hard? Or are you playing it nice?"_

_"We've been down both roads. We started out nice, and then she spit on Wyatt, and so we cranked it up a few notches."_

_"She spit on him?"_

_"Yes, ma'am."_

_"Arrest her for assault. And when she's processed, take prints of her entire fingers."_

_"Cap, you've lost me."_

_"The ME found slight bruising on the victim's arm that appears to be finger marks from where the killer's hand was holding him down. The impressions indicate that the killer's hands are approximately the same size as mine, and you said she's about my size, so it stands to reason that our hands are similar, too. With the arrest, we can take her prints and see if Rodgers can match them up to the bruising pattern on the victim's arm."_

I trusted him and Wyatt to get the job done, but his call had reminded me that we now had enough proof of Enzo's innocence to at least get him out of lock-up.

Reasonably, the charges should be dropped as well, but I'd settle for getting him out until we could confirm that it was Angela.

And since I was near the 7th, I decided I needed to make another trip so that I could take care of business in person.

I could brief Paulson on the incident that happened with Bobby and Mike, since his officers had responded, and I could also let him know about what Rodgers had found and let him make the decision of whether or not to spring Enzo.

And while I was there, I could check the progress of his LUD search.

So I'd had to part ways with Bobby, despite my prior daydream about getting him alone in the car for a few minutes while we went over to Delaney's apartment.

Instead, after giving concise instructions and sharing a pointed look with Bobby, I'd headed south to the 7th while he and Mike had gone to do the search.

And I hadn't seen him again from then until now, thus my enthusiastic greeting.

"I can't imagine why the reporters are talking about you," Stanley joked, having come back from the bar just in time to witness me kissing Mike. "And where is the doc?"

"She's on her way," Logan answered. Then he waggled his finger at me and said, "Next time give me a little warning, okay? I'll make it worth your while."

"I don't think there's going to be a next time," Bobby countered.

"This is all because Logan kept that guy from shooting Bobby?" Stanley asked with a grin. "I'm pretty sure I saved Bobby's life during that Hassan investigation, didn't I?"

Our conversation devolved from there as the post-adrenaline mood had us all feeling our oats, until suddenly Logan's voice broke through the laughter.

"What the…"

I followed the direction of his gaze and saw Liz through the open door of Pete's.

She was facing outward, and seemed to be yelling at someone, and then she glanced nervously in our direction before walking fully outside and letting the door close.

Logan was on his feet in a second, followed by the rest of us.

"No, wait here," he directed quickly. "What if it's Ross?"

Ross?

I hadn't even considered him.

I mean, I _should_ have, but…

And only minutes ago, I'd been kissing Bobby like my life depended on it.

Wouldn't _that_ just be the final nail in my ousted-from-Major Case coffin?

"I'll wait. I'm the only one who can't be seen here," I said, stepping aside to let Bobby go ahead of me. "Go."

So I moved towards the back of the restaurant and watched helplessly as Stanley and Bobby hurried outside after Mike.

TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>All I could think, as I made my way up the narrow aisle with Stanley hot on my heels, was that if it actually is Ross outside, he's going to be a dead man.<p>

And it would probably happen before I even got outside because Logan had put up with about all he was going to tolerate.

So when I pushed open the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk, my surprise had me pulling up short, causing Maas to run into the back of me.

"I know," Logan said, catching my expression as he nodded his head. "Nice, huh?"

"It does run deep, doesn't it?" Theresa from Channel 7 said with a victorious expression as she took in the sight of me and the deputy chief. "I was half-expecting Captain Eames to come out of there, too. Or is she too afraid? Is that it? Is she hiding in the dark recesses of the bar rather than face me?"

"Considering that none of us were expecting you, I'd say that's unlikely. Besides, if the captain were in the bar, she would've been the first one out here to send you on your way," Stanley spoke up.

"So you've taken to tailing the medical examiner now?" I questioned. "Why?"

"I wasn't tailing her," she corrected with slight embarrassment. And then as we all continued to stare at her, waiting for a better explanation, she added, "Okay, so I did. But that wasn't my intention. I was trying to catch Dr. Rodgers when she came out of the morgue, but she got into her car too quickly, so I figured I'd catch her when she got out."

"Because she doesn't work enough hours for the city," Mike said. "She doesn't deserve a private life, right?"

"I just had some questions," Theresa insisted.

"To which I already gave you the answer," Liz fired back. "No comment. And yet you still wanted to follow me into the bar."

"Hey, I'm a reporter. We're curious by nature. And now I'm even more curious, and I'm starting to think the Italian ties run even deeper than just Captain Eames. Detective Logan, you and your partner here went to see Enzo Lettiere yesterday, and now suddenly he's been released and charges have been dropped. What kind of pressure did you apply to the precinct captain to make that happen?"

"Don't answer that," Maas said firmly to us and then he glared at Theresa. "This isn't a press conference. You can ask your questions tomorrow morning in front of 1PP."

"You really want me to ask that question? Isn't the captain having enough trouble hanging onto her job?"

"You need to get better sources," Logan scoffed.

"I've got sources in the mayor's office," she retorted. "So don't try to tell me I don't know the score."

The four of us stood on one side of the sidewalk, staring at Theresa as she stood alone on the other side.

And despite being outnumbered, she still appeared cocky, which almost made me more nervous than I'd been earlier today, facing down an armed Delaney.

The only good thing about this confrontation was that there wasn't any camera crew, although I had no doubt that she had a digital recorder going full bore in her purse.

"Now what's the deal with Lettiere?" she continued. "Is he the reason why Eames is getting bumped out of Major Case? He and Bisetti?"

"No one's getting bumped," I insisted firmly.

But she just gave me a reproachful stare and then turned her focus on Logan as she lowered her voice and added, "Or is it her inappropriate relationship with one of her detectives?"

"Lady, you're so far out there," Logan said as he shook his head. "You're so dead set on trying to take Eames down. Why is that? You can't stand to see a woman more successful than you? All you'll ever be is a two-bit hack reporter while she's running the most prestigious department in the NYPD. Is that what gets you?"

"Is that what gets _you_?" she countered. "Going, I mean. Do you like powerful women, Detective?"

"Yes, I do," he said. Then he stepped closer to Liz and said, "This one."

"Look, this is highly unprofessional," Stanley spoke up as Theresa stood speechless staring at Mike and Liz. "You followed an ME from her office like a common stalker. And for the purpose of what?"

"She asked me if I'd found evidence on the body of Christian Newman that would back up Captain Paulson's decision to drop the charges against Enzo," Liz told him.

"There you go," I said. "_Captain Paulson's_ decision. Are you saying he's in bed with the Italians, too? Is it the entire NYPD?"

"No, I'm saying that the two of you went down there yesterday on the orders of Captain Eames. You threw your weight around, or rather _her_ weight, and now miraculously today the charges go away. What am I supposed to think? Especially now that I know you two are hobnobbing with high-level brass."

"I'll tell you what you're _not_ supposed to do. You're not supposed to stalk MEs to get them to release confidential information. So let me say this one last time. Any NYPD-related questions that you have need to be conveyed to Captain Eames during her daily press conference."

"Are you threatening me, Deputy Chief?"

"I'm saying I can get your press pass pulled with a one-minute phone call."

Stanley's assertion got Theresa to back down slightly.

"No need to get nasty," she said as she hiked her purse up onto her shoulder. "I'm just trying to get to the truth."

"No, you're trying to smear the name of a good cop by tossing out theories for which you have no facts to back up."

"Then get her to sit down with me," she suggested earnestly. "I want to hear her story."

"You want to make her look bad."

"No," she insisted. "I really don't."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a business card and held it out in front of her, but none of us made any move to get it.

"I want the real story. She can either talk to me, or I can keep digging around until I find it."

"Now who's making threats," Logan said.

"It's not a threat. It's just…the public wants to know more about her, okay? She's emerged as this powerhouse on the NYPD scene and there's very little information about her. That's why people keep speculating on her love life and on possible improprieties because once someone achieves a certain level of publicity, the masses just _want to know_…you know? So it may as well come from her as opposed to various sources who might not have her best interests at heart."

She had a point.

As much as I loathed her just on principle, she was right about the fact that public faces had to expect to lose a certain level of privacy. As popular as she's become, we're actually pretty lucky that we've been able to maintain a modicum of secrecy thus far.

I wasn't sure how much longer that would last.

"I'll pass along the message when I see her at work tomorrow," Stanley said as he finally plucked the card from Theresa's fingers. "In the meantime…"

"Go," she said, waving us towards the door. "I've got no problem with tireless cops enjoying a little downtime."

"And no more stalking," Logan added pointedly. "Next time I'll just arrest you. It might not stick, but I'll sure as hell have a good time trying."

She smiled and nodded at us and then turned and crossed the street, going back to her car.

"We're never going to be able to leave here," I remarked as we went back into Pete's. "How will we know she's not watching?"

"We're going to have to find a new place altogether," Logan said. "We won't be able to risk coming back here. If she'd walked in and seen you and Alex…"

"This is crap," Stanley said. "The two of you have to skulk around in the shadows and hide from the likes of her…why? Because of archaic regulations that treat you guys like you're twelve?"

"It _is_ crap," I agreed. "But that's what it is until we can get Moran to sign."

"Maybe he needs to hear how long you've been together," he continued, his face red from anger. "It's obvious that you have no problem working together. Hell, as much as people are trying to speculate about who she might be sleeping with, no one's guessed you. She's fair and professional at all times, just like you, Bobby. So what's the big fucking deal?"

"I think we're all on the same side, Stanley," Liz reminded him as we got back to our table.

Alex walked up from the other direction with a look of worry on her face.

"Ross?"

"Channel 7," I corrected.

"Even better," she said cynically. She eyeballed the front door for a minute and then I tugged on her hand, encouraging her to sit down, so she did. "We know she's gone?"

"She drove away," Logan said with a shrug, and then he stood back up and said, "Switch sides with us. If I see her come in the door, I'll play gatekeeper."

"This is what I'm talking about," Stanley mumbled. "We can't even sit and relax."

"I'm going to relax," Alex argued, and then she signaled to the waitress. "We're in here having an informal discussion on the events of the day. If the barracuda wants to come in here, then fine."

She ordered a double vodka martini, which belied her indifference to the situation, and then she took a deep breath and looked at Liz.

"So what happened?" she asked.

"I know. I'm sorry. I…didn't realize I was being followed."

"Why would you?" I questioned.

"I didn't mean it like that," Alex added quickly. "This isn't your fault. I was just asking what she said to you."

"Well, Paulson must have dropped the charges on Enzo. She wanted me to confirm that it was based on evidence found in the autopsy. I told her that if she wanted a quote, she could get in touch with the NYPD."

"Yeah, we're a little behind on this thing with Enzo," I said.

So Alex and Liz tag-teamed the explanation of the finger marks on the victim's arm, along with the fact that Enzo was one finger short of being the killer.

"I didn't ask Paulson to drop the charges," Alex concluded. "I only told him what we'd discovered, and suggested that he release him while his detective continued the investigation. And I recommended that Lipscomb make a call to Wyatt and Yuille."

"And?"

"Lipscomb called. And he actually listened while they brought him up to speed, and then Liz was able to match up Angela's prints to those on the victim. Or at least, close enough for cause on a warrant."

"Wait, how'd you get her prints?"

"Oh, she spit on Wyatt," Alex said with a smirk. "Don't you love it when a suspect does that?"

"I do when it gives me a reason to arrest them," Logan agreed.

"So that's Enzo. What about Justin Delaney? Did you find anything useful at his apartment?"

"An assortment of guns…muddy shoes that we might be able to match up to prints found in Corlears…and pictures of four girls."

"Four?" Alex asked in surprise.

"Uh huh. One of the other Jane Does that Scott found in the Automator file. Justin hadn't even bothered to try to delete them from his phone. He didn't consider that he'd ever get caught."

"Yeah, and it'd all be great to get a conviction if he was alive to stand trial," Logan said. "But none of it helps us catch the guy who started this. And nothing we found gave us any indication as to the identity of either Jane Doe."

"So tomorrow, we're going to call every female friend from Justin's Facebook page," I concluded.

"Did we get any response to our bulletin about the girls?" Alex asked.

"A detective in Paramus is sending us a file. One of the Jane Does is his case from almost three weeks ago," I said, and then I looked at Liz and added, "Oh, and he'll be sending you the autopsy report."

"That's fine," she agreed. "So Alex said there are twelve altogether?"

"Uh huh," Mike agreed.

"Well, I can get the word out to other ME's offices, too. It's not every day we run across acid on the fingertips."

"And it's only been three weeks," I added. "It's not like we're going back years."

"I'll see what I can find out," she said with a nod.

"Good, okay, so that's out of the way. Now does someone want to tell me how things ended with Theresa?"

"She wants you to call her," Stanley said as he slid the business card across the table.

"I bet she does."

"She insists that she wants the straight scoop."

"Well, did she also mention that Detective Coleman gave up Logan on a silver platter?"

"What?" Mike said loudly.

"It's what I thought," Alex told him. "The LUDs traced back to her desk. Paulson said he put the heat on her, and she broke down and admitted to making the call. She told Theresa that you were stepping on toes in an effort to spring a mobster. And that she only did it so that you would get kicked out of Major Case because she knew she was next in line."

"Oh, well as long as that's all it was," Logan said as he rolled his eyes.

"So if Coleman told Theresa that Mike was paid for, then why did she turn it on you?" Liz asked Alex.

"It's like she said," I responded. "Alex is the one people want to know. And Theresa had to figure that if Mike was at the 7th then Alex knew about it, especially since she was buying into the lie that the two of them are together."

"Hopefully we got _that_ straight," Logan said.

"I think you should do it," Stanley said suddenly.

"The sit-down? Why?"

"Because. Her accusation about you being on the payroll is what stalled the mayor's decision. After seeing that stack of resignation letters, he was ready to stick with you, but the question of impropriety and how that might affect his re-election campaign…well, that was turning point. If you can talk to her and get her on your side, then the frontal assault will stop, and maybe we can even shift the momentum around."

"So use her to our advantage as an asset rather than a liability," I said.

And I have to admit it.

As much as I didn't like the idea when he first said it, now I was starting to realize that he had a point.

"Exactly," he agreed. "Let's face it. Holt won't tolerate more bad press. He was eating it up when you made him look good, but like every politician, he's a fair-weather friend."

I turned and caught Alex's eye, knowing what she was thinking.

This had turned into more than just saving her own job.

Now she had nearly three dozen careers riding on her success.

"Okay," she agreed. "I'll call her first thing. And I'll win her over."

TBC...


	36. Chapter 36

**Maas POV**

* * *

><p>Initially, I'd only planned on staying at Pete's for an hour or so.<p>

Just to unwind and get up to speed.

And it's not that I had a date or anything, because I didn't, but I wanted to let the four of them have their own time, time without me.

I'd called Traci earlier, but she said that she was working late, so I was just going to head home alone.

But after the incident with Theresa, my blood was boiling.

Not only just from her, but from what she represented, and this whole situation with Ross and Holt.

"Hang on. We need another round," Mike protested when I started to get up.

"No, I should…"

"Come on, Stanley," Alex encouraged. "You got a date?"

"No."

"Then stay."

So I stayed.

And we didn't just have one more round.

We had several more until the demons we were all presently fighting suddenly didn't seem so invincible anymore.

And the seriousness had completely left the table.

After regaling them with an exaggerated recount of the exact expression that had been on Ross' face when he found out everyone was threatening to quit if he came back, I excused myself and went to the bathroom.

When I headed back, I saw that Alex and Liz were alone at the table. I glanced around and found Bobby and Mike standing at the bar, ordering another round, but they looked deep in conversation, so I continued walking to the table.

"Up against the front door," Liz was saying as I approached.

"I would've like to have seen that," I said as I sat down.

"What?" Liz asked sharply.

"What?" I replied innocently, still not fully grasping the conversation.

That was when I noticed that Liz was blushing and Alex was struggling not to laugh.

"Oh, did I…" I began, stumbling over my words and wondering if I'd interrupted a private conversation.

"Go ahead, Liz. Fill him in," Alex goaded.

"Maybe she'd better not," I said cautiously. "I thought you were talking about what you wanted to do to Theresa. You know, throw her up against the front door."

"Oh, no," Alex corrected. "She was telling me about what _Mike_ did to _her_. Yesterday morning after Ross' visit. While he was still standing outside."

"So you…against the door?" I asked, simultaneously trying to and trying _not_ to picture the scene.

"Thank you, Alex," Liz said, shaking her head as her face got even redder. "Where's my drink?"

"I'm sure it'll be here in a minute," Alex answered, clearly enjoying putting Liz in the hot seat. I'm not sure why she was so embarrassed to talk about it in front of me. It's not like I haven't heard worse.

"Hey, you know, it's not fair to put parameters on girl talk," I said easily. "I was invited when you wanted the scoop on Coleman, so…"

"Yeah, and you turned out to be wrong about her," Liz reminded me. "She wanted to ruin Mike's career."

"To get Major Case," I said with a grin. "If I'd given it to her, she would've left him alone, right?"

"Ha ha," Liz said with a snort, now over her embarrassment. "Admit it. You missed the psycho signs."

"Yeah, maybe. I tend to have trouble seeing past a pretty face."

"Speaking of pretty faces…how's Traci?" Alex asked me.

"She's good."

"We're not asking you about your sex life, Stanley," Liz said, causing me to nearly choke on the remains of my drink. "We're asking about her personality."

"She's got one," I said facetiously once I got myself under control.

"Well, she works fast," Alex remarked, causing me to start choking again.

I'd certainly never mentioned that I slept with Traci on the night I met her, but considering I'd been busted in my underwear only a few nights later, it was safe to assume they know I'm sleeping with her now.

And even though I'd just gotten on Liz for getting embarrassed about discussing her sex life, I'm still not prepared to talk about _mine_.

Alex and Liz shared a look of amusement and then Alex added, "I meant she's fast at _work_. Alonzo was knocking on my door first thing this morning."

"Oh. Yeah, Traci told me that you've already dropped the suit."

"So you've talked to her today?"

"I know how to use a telephone," I quipped.

"She's not upset about that, is she?"

"No, she knew it was just for effect," I said as Mike and Bobby returned. I took a large sip of my new drink and then said, "So, Mike…Liz was telling us that she might need a new front door."

Alex burst out laughing and Liz's cheeks colored again, but Mike just looked at me and grinned.

"Nah, but I was kind of hoping it wouldn't be able to withstand the pressure. Can you just imagine Ross' face, if the door had given way?"

"I think I might be more worried about my ass in that situation," Liz said wryly.

"Okay, I missed something," Bobby said as he sat down.

I leaned back and let Alex and Liz fill Bobby in on the front-door activities as Logan interjected the random commentary.

"I wonder if he actually stood there and listened," I mused.

"I don't think it matters. He probably didn't know what the hell was going on anyway. He seems like he'd be the rigid, missionary type to me," Logan joked.

We all laughed again and I watched as Bobby whispered something to Alex and then kissed her rather than letting her respond. It was amazing to me to see how close and affectionate they are off the clock considering how well they hide it _on_ the clock.

And I was happy to see that everyone was having a good time, despite the issues of our daily lives. It made me really glad that mine had joined the stack of resignation letters because becoming friends with these guys had shown me that there's so much more to life than just work. They obviously know that, too.

"Oh, Liz," Alex said suddenly. "I almost forgot."

She reached in her bag and pulled out a brown paper sack and handed it to Liz.

"What is it?" she asked rhetorically as she opened it up. "Chocolate?"

"Well, I've been working Mike a lot of hours, but I don't want to be the cause of you not getting any."

For some reason, that cracked everybody up, too, although I'm not exactly sure why.

But I do know that I was missing Traci, and I _really_ wished that she could be here with me.

I know that I haven't known her for that long, but I feel a connection with her, something I haven't felt with anyone in a very long time.

And it really pisses me off that I can't introduce her to my friends, socially speaking, until Moran uncaps his pen.

And speaking of Moran…

"I hate to say it, but I'm really going to have to call it a night," I announced.

"I thought you said no date," Mike remarked.

"No, but I've got a stop to make before I go home, and it's getting late. I'll be sure to scope out the vicinity on my way out and make sure you don't have stalkers."

I said my goodbyes and left the bar, and after several trips up and down the street, I deemed the area devoid of reporters, so I sent Alex a text and then I walked to the subway station.

Twenty minutes later, I was knocking on Moran's door.

It might not be my smartest move, visiting my boss at eleven-thirty on a Monday night while more than slightly intoxicated, but things needed to be said and I wasn't going to sleep until I said them.

Besides, I felt like we'd turned a corner in our relationship now that he was part of the rebellion.

"Stanley," he said in surprise when he opened the door. "It's late."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry to bother you. I hope I knocked quietly enough so as not to wake your wife."

"You did," he said after glancing backwards, presumably to confirm that no one was stirring. "She can sleep through just about anything."

He stepped outside and stood on the stoop with me, closing the door quietly behind him.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"I want you to sign those regs," I stated firmly. "First thing in the morning."

"Why?" he asked as he turned towards me. And then he sniffed and said, "Have you been drinking?"

"After a day like today? Are you going to tell me that you haven't been?" I retorted.

He stared at me for a long minute and then said, "I'll be right back."

He went inside and while he was gone, I took a few deep, cleansing breaths and wondered what in the hell I was doing here.

A month ago, I had a wife and a mistress…barely any friends…and a boss with whom I only held professional discussions.

I would've never made demands of him, and I certainly wouldn't have come to his home.

But now…so many things were different.

I no longer had a wife or a mistress.

_But I might have Traci_.

And I've got some really good friends.

_And_ I feel like more of a peer with Moran than an underling, so…maybe it was past time for some straight talk.

After another minute, the door opened again, and Moran came out carrying a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

He didn't talk until he'd poured us each a few fingers and then we both sat down on the steps.

"It's Eames, isn't it?" he said after taking a sip.

"You know, I have more departments beneath me than Major Case."

"I know."

"And even if I didn't, she's not the only woman there."

"I know."

"All I'm saying is that the regulations need to be fixed. And you waiting until this Ross thing goes away, or until Zaring's in a good mood…it's not helping."

"You still didn't answer my question."

"Did you think I would?"

"No," he said with a smirk. "So…tell me the latest with the mafia situation."

"Captain Paulson had the charges dropped against Enzo. The ME found evidence that rules him out."

"That's excellent news."

"It is. But reporters are still digging. Dr. Rodgers was followed tonight. Theresa stalked her, trying to get information on Enzo."

"She followed her after work?"

"That's right. Logan and I went out for drinks and Liz was meeting us. When we saw her, we went outside to find out what was going on, and after Liz declined to comment on the Enzo case, Theresa started in on Logan, asking him about his relationship with Eames."

"This is getting out of hand," he muttered. "Did Logan handle it okay?"

"He kept his cool. And he's dating Liz, so he was honest with Theresa."

"Logan and Dr. Rodgers?" he said, and then he started laughing. I was on the verge of being offended on Logan's behalf until he added, "Oh, I bet Danny Ross is loving that!"

"It didn't go over well," I agreed as I chuckled, now thinking about what I'd learned earlier about Liz and Mike going at it against their door. "But hopefully he got the message on that. Now if we can get him to get the hint about the job…"

"He doesn't care. He won't mind filling that department from scratch with green detectives if it means he's the captain. That should've clued Holt in. A better man would've backed off and maybe talked about alternatives rather than risking the good of the department."

I nodded my head in agreement and took another sip of the Irish whiskey and then went at him again.

"These reporters aren't going to go away. They want dirt on Eames, and if they've taken to following colleagues…it's a miracle that they haven't started tailing her."

"What are your thoughts?"

"I suggested that she talk to Theresa, one-on-one. I think she's going to do it, probably tomorrow."

"Not a bad idea."

"But do you realize how much time she's spent fielding questions about detectives' personal lives? It sure would be nice if the next time a question is asked she can simply say that it's not against regulations. If the press doesn't smell scandal, then they'll lose interest and maybe they'll start asking her real questions."

"I agree," he replied.

"So what's the hold-up?" I asked him with a grin. "Slip it into a stack of other documents sent to Zaring's office and it'll be a month before he gets around to reading it, and even then he might miss the fine print. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer."

"He's the commissioner," he admonished lightly.

"Yes, sir."

"Yeah, he is kind of a moron, isn't he?" he said on a chuckle. "Okay, so we're putting the mob connection to bed. Eames is going to handle Theresa. And the FBK?"

"Another killer taken down today, and they think this one was responsible for four of the girls."

"Those two are good, aren't they?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be sure to update Holt on their progress. And if we can get through a few more press conferences without the mention of the Italians, then I think we'll be okay on Friday."

I left Moran after we finished our drinks.

He still hadn't committed to signing the regs, but I felt like he was definitely on the same page with me.

It was progress, and that was more than I had earlier tonight, so the trip had been worth it.

I hopped the subway back to my new apartment, scoured the street for lurkers, and then pulled the keys from my pocket and headed towards the steps.

Headlights coming up the street sent my heart racing and I felt the irrational urge to dive behind the bushes, but I didn't.

Instead, I turned around and watched as a car parked across the street.

_If this is Ross again, I'm just going to beat him to a pulp._

But it wasn't Ross.

It was Traci.

And now my heart was racing for a different reason altogether.

She started across the street and then smiled when she realized I was standing outside, watching her.

"Hi," she said as she approached me. "I hope it's okay that I came by. I know it's late, but…"

She set down her briefcase and went into my arms.

"I missed you," she finished, her words barely audible now that I was holding her tightly against me.

"I've been thinking about you all night," I told her as I let her go and then reached down and picked up her briefcase. "I'm glad you came."

"Long day?" she asked me as we went up the steps.

"It wasn't all bad. What about you?"

"I don't know why some people think the law is so exciting. It's boring as hell."

"Really?"

"No," she said on a laugh. "I love it. But I don't love working this late."

We went inside and I locked up behind us, and then I pulled her into another hug.

"It's nice to have someone to come home to, though, isn't it?" she added quietly.

"It sure is."

TBC...


	37. Chapter 37

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>"You know, you're really starting to get on my nerves."<p>

"Why is that?"

"You're smiling. Again. No one should be that damn happy."

I laughed as Sarah flashed me a mock scowl.

"You want me to be bitchy?" I asked her.

"No," she admitted on a sigh. "I just want to have _that_ smile."

"Which one is that?"

"The one that says I just had the best sex of my life."

I barked out another laugh as I pulled my hair into a ponytail and then grabbed a fresh pair of gloves.

"What's so funny?" she asked.

"I shouldn't say. I'll just make you mad."

"Say it."

"Are you sure?"

She rolled her eyes at me, so I said, "I've had the best sex of my life _every_ night for the past month. Most mornings, too. And sometimes at lunch…"

"Okay, enough!" she interrupted. "You're right. It's just pissing me off."

But she was smiling as she efficiently worked with me, prepping the latest victim for an autopsy.

And I was definitely smiling because I was still thinking about last night.

"_You outed us to a reporter_," I'd said to Mike as we made the short walk home from Pete's.

"_Are you mad?"_

"_Why would I be mad?"_

"_Because. You're a private person."_

"_I'm not when it comes to my relationship with you. In fact, I had this nice little fantasy the other day about taking over one of Alex's press conferences so that I could lay you out across the podium on national TV."_

"_Really?"_ he asked with interest.

"_Really."_

"_I'm pretty sure she's got one scheduled for tomorrow…"_

I'd started laughing at his mischievous accompanying expression, but then he'd pulled me into his arms and started kissing me.

"_Or we can always hope there's a cameraman lurking around here somewhere,"_ he'd practically growled as he moved his lips along my jaw, back to my ear.

I'd teased him Saturday night about having skill with his night stick, but the truth is that he's skilled with everything.

He can so easily make me forget about my surroundings, sometimes even with just a look or a touch.

So despite being on a public sidewalk, still more than a block from my house, we made out for several minutes.

"_Walking home with you is dangerous,"_ he said when he finally pulled away from me.

"_I could say the same thing about you,"_ I replied.

I watched him as his eyes moved over me hungrily, and I swear, if he'd suggested that we go over to the bus stop and make good use of the bench, I probably would've done it.

"_We'd better go home_," he said at last, his tone low and rumbling. "_What if Theresa's watching?"_

"_Then we should give her a show,"_ I suggested as I leaned in to kiss him again. I did it slowly and purposefully, enjoying the fact that I'd gotten him so worked up.

Of course, I was right there with him.

And I mean _right_ there.

But I wasn't so far gone that I was actually willing to go further out here on the sidewalk, so I reluctantly ended the kiss and then I ran my hand down his chest, along the length of his tie, stopping only when I got to his belt.

His eyes darkened as I slipped my fingers inside of the waistband, just enough so that I could get a grip on his pants. I held on for a moment, keeping him close, so close that I could hear his labored breaths as he worked to get himself under control.

"_That's enough of a show," _I said finally._ "Let's go home."_

So we'd walked the last bit of distance to my place, and once we were inside, we were all over each other.

My foyer seems to get a lot of action these days and last night was no exception.

It usually works out that the first time is all about need and passion.

And then he's almost always good for a second time, and that's always about love.

And really, even when he's not physically ready to go again, it's still about love because despite what a lot of people might think of Mike, he's an extremely demonstrative man.

So last night, after we ravaged each other against the wall, we went to bed and he wrapped his arms around me, running his fingers lightly over my back.

"_I wasn't going to say anything,"_ he said quietly after a minute.

"_About what?"_

"_Us. To that reporter. But I figured it has to bug you, at least a little, that people keep suggesting I'm with Alex."_

"_Well, she did kiss you tonight,"_ I teased. I didn't want him to feel bad about what reporters were saying.

I know the truth and that's all that matters.

"_To thank me,"_ he reminded me.

"_I know,"_ I said as I turned in his arms so that I could look him in the eye. _"You know I know. I don't care what other people think. I know what you think."_

"_Yeah, but I'm not sure even you realize the truth."_

"_Which is what?"_

"_That I'm so in love with you it scares me to death. I mean it, Liz. And Ross coming back…it messed with my mind."_

"_Mike…"_

"_Not like that. I mean, maybe like that for a little while, but…it's really gotten me thinking about how I'd feel if you weren't with me anymore."_

"_And?"_

"_I'd be a broken man,"_ he said and then he leaned down to press a kiss against my forehead. _"You know, I swore to myself that I'd never give a woman that kind of power over me. I guess it's out of my control though, huh? Because I've given it to you."_

"_Well, we're both in the same boat then."_

"_How did this happen?" _he mused as he rolled us over so that I was on my back. He looked down at me and said, _"How in the world did you fall in love with me?"_

"_How could I not?"_

And I wasn't being glib about it.

I was being honest.

He's just the most loveable man.

He smiled at my response and then kissed me deeply as he slowly pushed into me.

And what happened over the course of the next hour or so was without a doubt one of our most sensual experiences to date.

"It's been two weeks," Sarah said after we'd worked for a couple of minutes in silence.

"Two weeks?" I questioned as I forced my focus back to the present.

"Two weeks since…you know. And even _that_ wasn't anything to write home about. The dickhead. And then he had to hook up with that little hussy..."

"Better to find out now than two years into a marriage," I said practically.

And really, I was proud of her for dumping the guy. Too many women put up with infidelity, and if the guy was cheating on her already, then how was she ever supposed to trust him?

"Is that experience talking?"

"Yeah, only I was ten years into a marriage," I admitted.

"Ouch."

"Uh huh. Wasted some of the best years of my life. Only I guess not really," I said thoughtfully. "Actually, right now…_this_ is the best time of my life. And I suppose I had to be _there_ to get _here_, so…"

I trailed off as my mind wandered again.

Last night, after we made love the second time, Mike had gotten up to get a drink of water. That was when I noticed his leg.

"_Mike, what happened?"_ I asked as I took in the sight of the entire length of his thigh covered in a myriad of blues and purples.

"_What? Oh…a taxi,"_ he said dismissively.

"_It usually works better if you wave one down while you're still standing on the sidewalk as opposed to walking in front of them,"_ I said as I got up to get a closer look.

And I felt kind of bad, not only for not noticing sooner, but also about the amount of physical activity he'd been doing since we got home, because his leg looked really sore.

"_I was catching up to Bobby,"_ he said quietly, standing still while I knelt down for a closer look. _"He chased that guy into the alley, and I was across the street…"_

"_And you caught up to him,"_ I reminded him. _"And took down the suspect."_

"_I know, but…Liz, it was close. When he went down…for a second there, I wasn't sure."_

I stood up, satisfied that there was no structural damage done to his leg, and then I wrapped my arms around him.

I hadn't considered how much the incident had thrown him. I mean, I knew it at the time, but the lingering effect was unexpected.

He hugged me tightly, swaying slightly as we stood together in the darkened room.

"_I don't know what I would've done,"_ he continued. _"If something had happened to him…"_

"_But it didn't. And that's because you're a damn fine cop."_

He didn't reply but just held me tighter and several minutes passed before he spoke again.

"_I love you so much,"_ he whispered.

The intensity with which he said the words caused my eyes to fill with tears.

I was married for ten years and never once felt so indispensable.

"_I know you don't want to get married or anything, but I want you to know…I _need_ you to know that I would, in a second. I need you in my life, Liz, and I don't ever want to be without you."_

And he worries about lacking in romance.

I was too overwhelmed to respond one way or the other, except to return the sentiment of love, but later, once we were back in bed, I ran my fingers through his hair and thought about his words.

Sarah cleared her throat loudly and I realized that she was staring at me.

"What?"

"Did I lose you for a minute there?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I was just…thinking."

"He's really it for you, isn't he?" she asked, guessing the direction of my thoughts. "Logan, I mean."

"Yes," I answered immediately.

Sarah sighed heavily and went back to work, taking pictures as I did an external exam.

"God, I want that," she said quietly.

"Hey, Doc!"

I looked up and saw Yuille breezing into the autopsy suite.

Talk about timing.

"Good morning, Detective. Where's your sidekick?"

"He's making the coffee run, so I said I'd stop by here to pick up that report."

"Drew the short straw, did you?" I joked.

He's a pretty amicable guy, now that he's not trying so hard to be an ass. We're on much better terms since he made things right with Alex.

And I have to admit it. He's cute in a Matt Damon kind of way.

"No, I'm here by choice," he said with a grin. "I love the morgue."

"You can't charm me, Detective. I'm immune to your type."

"My type?"

"Bullshitters," I replied. Then I turned to Sarah and said, "Would you mind? I've got that report in my office."

"Sure," she agreed. She stepped back from the table and set down her camera and then looked shyly at Yuille. "Come on. I'll get it for you."

Yuille followed her into my office and I heard him say, "It's Sarah, right? I'm Nick."

I watched for a moment as the two of them chatted, and then I got back to work.

A few minutes later, she came back out and looked at me quizzically.

"Doc, I can't find it. Do you remember where you put it?"

"Oh, you know what? It's over there on the table," I said, nodding my head towards the table right next to where Yuille had been standing when he'd first come in.

Because of course I'd known he was coming to get it, so I was ready for him.

But since he'd come alone, and yesterday Sarah had asked about him…well, what can I say?

I'm in love, so I'm a sucker for romance.

She looked at me for a second and then flashed me a grin as she went over and snagged the report from the table before going back to my office where Yuille was waiting.

It was several more minutes before they came out.

"Thanks, Doc," he said as he headed for the door.

"Oh, and Detective," I called out. "What you did for Captain Eames yesterday…"

"It was everybody."

"I know, but still…"

"So am I officially off your list now?" he asked with a smile.

"For now."

He waved and then looked in Sarah's direction one more time before leaving.

"So?" I asked her once we were alone and she was back at my side with her camera.

"So what?"

"Don't be coy with me. You've been quizzing me on my sex life. The least you can do is tell me what he said."

"I have a date," she admitted.

"You work fast."

"Well, it was kind of the perfect opportunity. I couldn't pass it up."

"You asked him?"

"Yeah. Well, sort of. Anyway, if I get off in time, he's going to take me to dinner tonight."

"You'll be off in time."

"Good, then maybe tomorrow _I'll _be the one smiling," she said with a grin.

"After one date? You'd better not be."

"Yes, Mom," she joked. "Because I should be like my role model and wait…how long did you and Logan wait?"

"I've known Mike for years," I deflected.

"In a work environment," she clarified, not letting me off the hook. "But when you started seeing him outside of work…"

"Dr. Rodgers?"

I looked up to see that Luke was sticking his head in the room.

"What is it?"

"We got a call. DOA in Red Hook."

"Isn't Mitchell up next? I'm right in the middle of taking care of Mr. Horton, here."

He nodded in understanding, but then said, "Dr. Mitchell thought you might want to take this one, since you've got experience with it. It's another FBK."

TBC...


	38. Chapter 38

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"Are you sure about this?"<p>

"I don't see where I have a choice."

"You always have a choice. Say the word and we're on a plane to Bermuda."

I smiled as Bobby wrapped his arms around me.

"Make it somewhere a little warmer and you might have a deal."

"Yeah, you're right. I think the average temperature in February is sixty-eight. Better than New York, but not as good as…"

"Key West?"

"Seventy-six," he replied quickly.

"How do you know this stuff?" I asked as I pulled back from him and straightened his tie.

"I may have checked it out," he admitted.

"You looked up median temperatures? For how many places?"

"I don't know," he said. "A few. I mean, I'm kind of hoping we'll have a honeymoon pretty soon."

God, the man says the sweetest things.

We weren't even sure yet if we'd actually be able to get married and yet he was already researching the best place to go for a honeymoon.

I grabbed onto the tie that I was still piddling with and used it to pull him down to me.

"Let's take the honeymoon either way," I said as I brought my lips to his.

I kissed him lightly, planning to keep it brief, but then he moved his hands up to my face and our intensity level immediately went from innocent to scorching and for some reason it reminded me of that first kiss we shared outside of the restaurant on our first night of living together undercover.

With that kiss, I'd been about ready to explode and it had taken every ounce of my professionalism to act casual about it afterwards.

"_Are you ready_?" I'd asked him. "_I'm starving_."

And I was actually starving for _him_ because he stood there and looked at me with those incredible eyes of his and I could still taste his lips on mine…

If only I'd known then what I know now.

That he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

And thankfully our desire for each other hasn't changed in the time since.

Because as we stood in the kitchen and kissed each other as though we were about to part for days instead of only hours, I still got that same tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach, just like I'd gotten that night.

"Either way?" he questioned in a husky voice when we finally broke off the kiss.

"If Moran won't sign, or if Zaring overrides him…let's still take a vacation together."

"We just got back," he pointed out. "It's only been five weeks."

"After working non-stop undercover for nine months. I'm not going to feel bad about asking for a week. Are you?"

"No," he said with a grin. "And my boss likes me, so I think I'll get it approved."

"Uh huh. Let's just hope I'm still your boss after Friday."

His face went serious as he stroked his thumb over my cheek.

"Things are falling into place. Mike and I are making headway, and the Enzo thing is mostly cleared up. If you can get Theresa on your side so that you have an ally at your press conferences this week…it's going to work, Alex. Holt will do the right thing."

Which is why I was meeting with Theresa this morning.

That's the thing Bobby was a little worried about.

And I don't blame him.

I do have a tendency to spout off sarcasm when I'm annoyed.

And when I'm not.

And if I somehow say the wrong thing, or manage to alienate Theresa, then the press conferences will be tough this week.

I can't afford that.

I need to get rid of any cloud of doubt that might be hanging over my head so that Holt will focus more on the fact that he'll lose a lot of good employees if he goes forward with the switch.

But if the mafia thing is still looming, or if there's a hint of some kind of sex scandal, then that makes _Holt_ look bad.

And he'd rather hire a whole new department than deal with that.

So basically I have to use the one aspect of my job that I hate most in order to keep the job I love.

"I hope so," I replied. I stepped away from him and moved over to the table to grab my gun and badge. "Mike's coming to pick you up?"

"He said he would," he said as he checked his watch. "It'll probably be another twenty minutes or so."

"Okay," I said as I reached for the car keys. "I'll text you when I'm done."

I kissed him one more time and then left the apartment, heading for the diner where I planned to meet with Theresa.

I'd called her an hour ago, anxious to get it over with.

"_I didn't think the deputy chief would actually pass on my message_," she'd admitted on the phone. "_And certainly not so quickly._"

"_He's a man of his word."_

"_Good to know."_

So we'd agreed to a time and place, and I'd informed her that we wouldn't be discussing the FBK, other than what the press already knew.

"_My boss promised an exclusive on that particular case,"_ I told her. _"So no questions about that, okay? But we can talk about other cases."_

"_What about personal information?"_

"_You can ask. And we can be on the record until I tell you're we're off. Deal?"_

"_Deal." _

I got to the diner ten minutes ahead of schedule, so I found a booth and ordered a cup of coffee and then settled in for the wait.

While I sipped on the strong brew, I thought about last night.

We'd stayed at Pete's for a while after Stanley left, all of us getting slightly drunk.

And okay, so I was more than slightly drunk.

I couldn't stop thinking about how close Bobby had come to dying. It was hard to reconcile the fact that he was barely hurt and yet if any one thing had been different…

"_You're going to regret this tomorrow_," he'd said to me as we left the bar. He was chuckling lightly as he spoke and he kept an arm firmly around me to keep me from stumbling. It was only a short walk to the subway station, and I was glad I'd parked the car at the apartment and ridden the subway to Pete's earlier so that we didn't have to worry about having a car stranded.

Because Bobby wasn't as bad off as me, but he'd still had quite a bit.

"_I don't have regrets,"_ I'd replied boldly.

"_None?"_ he asked, glancing down at me and raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"_Okay, so I have one_," I stated, and then I stopped walking and instead reached up to kiss him. It was slow and lingering, and when I pulled back fractionally, I said, _"I regret not doing this with you sooner."_

"_We're doing it now,_" he'd countered, and then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me and I got so caught up in the moment that I completely forgot that we were standing on a public street, in clear view of anyone who might be looking…anyone who might want scoop on the NYPD's newest face.

Of course, it was also pretty late at night, and there weren't many people out and about on that particular stretch of sidewalk, but still…it had been risky and ill-advised and yet I just couldn't bring myself to care.

_He could've died._

I'd wasted nearly ten years…ten _years_ of wanting him and never saying a word, and to think that I could've lost him after such a short time together…

Those thoughts were on a permanent loop in my brain and by the time we got onto the subway, I threw the last little bit of restraint to the wind. We made out – and I mean _seriously_ made out – on the nearly-deserted train.

We were both so lost in our own world that we missed our stop and didn't even realize it until three stops later.

"Captain Eames."

I looked up and saw that Theresa had approached the table while I was strolling down memory lane.

_It's a good thing she's not a mind reader_.

"Theresa," I greeted cordially. "Have a seat."

"I appreciate you agreeing to meet with me," she said as she slid into the booth across from me. The waitress promptly came over to pour her a cup of coffee, so our conversation lagged for just a moment. Once we were alone again, she said, "And I want to apologize for last night."

"Last night?"

"I'm sure the deputy chief told you that I followed Dr. Rodgers," she stated, and I have to admit that I like her straight-forwardness. I guess it's only a bad thing when she's asking questions I don't like.

"He did, but I'd say the apology should go to her rather than to me."

"Oh, it did. It was unprofessional of me. Sometimes when I'm trying to break a story I tend to get a little…"

"Ruthless?" I offered.

"Single-minded," she amended, but then she smiled and took a sip of coffee. "You know, I like you, Captain. Detective Logan accused me of trying to derail you because I don't like women who are more successful than me, but that's just not true."

"Logan is just protective of me," I said, and then when I realized how that might sound, I added, "All of my detectives are."

"I'm starting to see that," she said with a nod. "And I know there's no merit to the idea of you and Detective Logan. Not only did he mention that he's in a relationship with the ME, but I honestly never believed it anyway. My source seemed a little bitter and her information was unreliable."

"Christy Alonzo," I said. At her surprised look, I explained, "She told me. But my question to you is why you used her information even when you doubted it's accuracy."

"Because I'm a reporter. A lawyer will tell you to never ask a question to which you don't know the answer, but that's not how it works with reporters. We like to throw things out there and see what sticks."

"You mean like the idea that I'm bought and paid for by Alfredo Toscano?"

"You have to admit that it looks a little fishy."

"You want the whole story on that?"

"Are we still on the record?" she asked as she gestured toward the digital recorder that she'd started up as soon as she arrived at the table.

"I don't have anything to hide," I answered.

_Not about this anyway_.

So through our first cup of coffee, I told her how Enzo had helped us out of a difficult situation, and that Bobby had given him his business card.

"It's not always about guilt or innocence," I reminded her as I finished my story. "Sometimes a guy can get a bum rap and if the detective assigned has preconceived notions…"

"You mean like because the lover of a mobster's girlfriend turns up dead so that mobster must have killed him?"

"Just like that. But things are rarely what they seem at first glance."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You seem to be a tough as nails police captain who's currently fighting for her job in front of the cameras because the mayor had the brilliant idea of using your affability as a way of getting votes."

"You think I'm affable?" I retorted.

She laughed and waved the waitress over for a refill.

"I think you're a woman who knows how to get the job done, and you've got just enough smartass in you to make people like you while you do it," she stated. Then she sat back in the seat and met my gaze and added, "So tell me what's going on with the struggle over the captain's job."

"There's no struggle. It's mine."

"Yesterday, it was going to go to Danny Ross," she replied. "So tell me how, when that was the plan, the change didn't happen even after the implication was made about you and Toscano. Your press conference yesterday should've just solidified Holt's decision in his mind and instead no decision was made at all."

"He postponed until Friday."

"I know that. But there was still a meeting."

"Yes."

"And yet nothing happened."

I smiled at her and shrugged and took a sip of my coffee.

"I'm wondering if you have some kind of leverage over the mayor," she continued.

"Leverage?"

"A reason why he wouldn't make the switch."

"Because I'm the better man for the job. He got carried away with the prospect of me taking over as media liaison, but he's backing up and re-evaluating."

"Because…"

"Because he's a smart man."

"Uh huh," she said dubiously. "Why do I think there's more to it than that?"

"I don't know. Why do you?"

"Okay, so…tell me this. What will you do if Ross takes your job? Will you accept the position in the media department?"

"No."

"You don't like us very much, do you?" she asked on a laugh.

"It's not that. I'm a detective first. It's what I love to do."

"So you'd go back to being a detective. And work under Ross? Won't that be awkward?"

"It would be. But it's not going to happen."

"It's a possibility."

"No, it's not," I said pointedly.

I wasn't going to come out and say that I'd quit if Ross got the job, but I let the implication hang.

She stared at me for a moment, and I picked up a menu and then looked around for the waitress. If we were going to keep sitting here, I was going to eat. I was starting to feel a little nauseous from the hangover Bobby had warned me about, and so I needed to get something on my stomach.

My slight nausea turned to a near instantaneous gastric revolt when I saw the man who was bussing the table across the aisle.

It was Ray Delgado.

Talk about a guy getting a bum rap.

He was the man who spent nine years in prison for killing Joe, when in actuality the guilty man was Manny Beltran.

My breathing rate increased along with my heart beat and I could feel the beads of sweat popping up along my forehead.

And I can't explain my reaction other than that I spent so many years hating Delgado, and then I spent a few more years feeling guilty over the fact that he'd been wrongfully imprisoned.

And now here he was, a fifty-year-old bus boy.

He must have felt my eyes on him because he suddenly stopped and looked up at me. He got that deer-in-the-headlights look, like he had that day in the visiting room at Dannemora, and then his eyes shifted quickly, scouring the surroundings as though he was afraid that I was going to cause a scene in front of a co-worker or boss.

"Captain?" Theresa questioned, although her voice sounded hollow and far away.

Instead of replying, I got to my feet and crossed the aisle.

We were at the back of the diner, which was clearing out now that it was after nine o'clock, so I said quietly, "I see you still remember me."

"You honestly think I'd ever forget your face?"

"No," I admitted. "And I…I want to say…I'm sorry. For what happened to you. And to your family. You didn't deserve it."

"No, you were right what you said to me that day. My lifestyle's what put me in prison. I shouldn't have expected anyone to believe a lowlife like me."

"The cops should've worked harder to find the truth the first time around. And now your son…"

"My son should've known better than to take that kind of revenge. And I could lie and say that it's because I was in prison that I wasn't able to teach him better, but the truth is that if I hadn't gone upstate, I would've still been on the streets dealing."

"And now?"

"Victor will be up for parole in ten more years. And me…I've been clean since I got out. I have you to thank for that, I guess. I know you didn't want to believe that it wasn't me, but you looked anyway."

"My partner is the one responsible. He can be pretty persistent."

"Then thank him for me, okay? And I hope…I hope that you're doing okay. I don't blame you for thinking I did it. Too many people were telling the same story. Hell, I almost believed it myself."

"Hey, Ray! Yo, you ain't on no break! You want, I can arrange a permanent one!"

I looked over and saw a large, sweaty guy in a white t-shirt standing behind the counter. He was glaring at Ray, and I wasn't sure what the big deal was because there weren't very many customers, so I could only guess that this type of verbal abuse was typical.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I'll let you get back to work. I just wanted to say…that I'm sorry for how things worked out."

"You got nothing to be sorry for, Mrs. Dutton."

The name sounded foreign to me, but the mistake was understandable.

He knew me as Joe's widow.

"It's Eames," I corrected, and then I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card. "Captain Eames."

I handed him the card and then added, "Let me know if…well, if…if you get into trouble."

"You want to help me if I get into trouble?"

"I want to help you if you find yourself in trouble for something you didn't do," I corrected.

He nodded at me with a solemn expression on his face and then he tucked the card into his pocket and went back to work, so I moved back to the table and sat down.

Theresa was staring with blatant interest.

"Can I ask what all that was about?"

"No."

"But…"

"And if you got any of it on tape, that part's off the record."

"Captain…"

"It's non-negotiable."

I wasn't going to have her exploiting anything about Ray Delgado.

Honestly, I didn't even want to be sitting here with her anymore. Not because she wasn't nice, because she actually was, but because I felt off-kilter, emotionally speaking, and I was having trouble categorizing my feelings about Ray and Joe and everything that had happened, both thirteen years ago when Joe was killed, and four years ago when his case was re-opened.

I wanted to be by myself so that I could think.

Scratch that.

I wanted to be with Bobby.

"Are we done?" I asked her after another moment. "I really need to get to the office."

"I think we touched on some key issues, but I didn't get around to asking you about your personal life."

"You're assuming I have a personal life."

"You're single, attractive, smart…I'm sure you don't have any trouble finding companionship."

"It's more about finding the time," I deflected.

And that was true.

I don't have nearly enough time with Bobby.

"Are you saying that you're not in a relationship right now?"

"I didn't say that."

"So you are."

"I didn't say that either."

"Why the secrecy? What's the big deal?"

"Maybe I don't want his face on the morning news. Maybe I don't want him being tailed by single-minded reporters. And maybe I think that who I may or may not be sleeping with is completely irrelevant as to whether or not I can do my job. And even more than that, it's irrelevant to the cases that my detectives are working on. _That_ should be the public's interest in Major Case, who's solving what as opposed to who's doing who."

"Very eloquently said, Captain. Can I quote you on that?"

I didn't answer, but instead got up from the table and pulled out a five-dollar bill and then reconsidered and tucked it back into my wallet, exchanging it for a twenty instead.

"Thanks for meeting me, Theresa. I'll see you in a couple of hours at today's press conference."

I put the twenty down on the table to cover our coffee, and she glanced at it and then looked at me in confusion.

"Twenty dollars for coffee? That's nearly a seven hundred percent tip."

I shrugged and said, "The waitress and the bus boy have to split it. And we took up a table for more than an hour without eating anything, so…"

"Okay," she said with an understanding nod. I started to leave but then she said, "Oh, Captain! So this man you're seeing…"

"What man?"

"The one whose face you don't want on the morning news," she responded with a smile.

"I was speaking hypothetically."

She sighed and said, "You're really not going to give me anything on your personal life? Some interesting little tidbit that I can use to out-scoop the other reporters?"

"How about this…if I'm still around on Monday, you can ask me again."

And then I turned and headed for the door.

TBC...


	39. Chapter 39

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>"I need to make a stop first."<p>

"We'll be late," I warned as Bobby buckled his seat belt.

I'd left Liz's house a few minutes later than I meant to, and then I'd had to walk down to Pete's where I'd left the car, before driving to Bobby's place, so we didn't have any time to spare.

"I'll make it quick."

"Where's Alex?"

"She went to meet up with Theresa."

"Oh, so you're okay being late since she won't be there to see us," I joked.

And it was definitely only a joke.

I knew Bobby wouldn't take advantage of their relationship like that, and I also knew that considering the number of hours we put in each week, Alex wasn't going to bust our balls if we weren't there at precisely eight o'clock each morning.

"I don't want her to know we're late because I don't want her to ask where we were," he explained.

"Oh. So where are we going to be?"

"Let's take a swing through the Diamond District."

Which is why when I got to work, my wallet was considerably lighter than it was when I left the house.

And I don't mean because I bought Liz a ring.

I thought about it.

Long and hard, actually.

But we've only been dating a little over a month. And she doesn't want to be married again.

Honestly, as long as she's happy with me then it doesn't really matter whether we make it legally binding.

But she does have a birthday coming up in a few days, and then Valentine's Day is a few days after that, so I dropped the equivalent of a paycheck in the upscale jewelry store.

Not nearly what she's worth, but all I can afford.

In addition to the jewelry store purchase, I made reservations at a lodge in the Adirondacks, so I was hoping like hell that we could both get out of work at a decent time on Friday.

Of course, if Holt screws Alex over, I'll be hitting the bricks pretty early, so there won't be anything to worry about as far as getting a jump on the weekend, but I'm really hoping it doesn't come to that.

We got to 1PP by eight-thirty, and within five minutes of sitting down at our desks, we got a call.

"We got a DOA in Red Hook that matches up to your bulletin," the officer said. "I'll hold down the fort until you can get here. I've already called the ME."

So we drove to Red Hook.

"I hate to admit that we might need some help on this, but…" Bobby said as I found a place to park near the yellow tape.

"I know," I agreed. "We're so busy trying to keep up with the current murders that we can't spend any time investigating the older ones."

None of the five additional girls that Scott had found pictures of were ID'd yet, nor was the Jane Doe from Corlears. We were supposed to get the file from Paramus today, but the detective had warned us that it was painfully light.

We badged the uniform on scene and approached the body just as Liz was getting to her feet.

"We really need to quit meeting like this," Liz remarked.

"You're telling me. What've we got?"

"Strangulation with a nylon rope. Acid on the finger tips," she stated. And then she pointed to an object on the ground a few feet away. "And it looks like your guy forgot his hammer, so he used that two-by-four over there on her mouth."

"Jesus Christ," I mumbled. "Who knew we had so many psychos in the city?"

"Well, I did," Liz replied. "And I don't know if it counts for much, but at least this one's wounds were done post-mortem."

She held my gaze for a moment longer and then she turned back to the body while Bobby and I examined the scene.

"We really need to figure this thing out," he said quietly.

"Uh huh."

"Delaney said two more days. That means tomorrow. If we can't figure out who's behind it by then, they all might disappear into the woodwork."

I nodded thoughtfully as I continued to walk around the area, attempting to recreate the scene in my mind.

After another ten minutes or so, Liz left with our latest victim, promising to fast track the autopsy, but we were still searching for clues.

Because Bobby was right.

We were on a tight time line.

Not only might our mystery man disappear once the contest was over, but we were also afraid of increased entries, now that the deadline was approaching.

"Detectives!" one of the unis on scene called out.

"What is it?" I asked him as he moved towards us.

"I found a witness."

"To the murder?" Bobby asked as he got to his feet.

He had something in his hand, but he ignored it for the moment as we concentrated on this new bit of information.

"Lucy King," he said, pointing across the street to where a young girl was standing. "She was looking out her bedroom window when it happened."

"What took her so long?" I asked.

"Her mom didn't want her to get involved. She's afraid of payback or something. But the girl slipped out of the house as soon as she could and told me that she saw the guy. And she's the one who called it in."

"How old is she?"

"I asked the same thing. She's sixteen."

"She looks about ten," I remarked. "But great. Keep an eye on her for another minute and we'll be right there."

The officer nodded and walked back towards the girl, so I turned around and looked at Bobby.

"What did you find?"

"It's a check stub."

"From a paycheck?" I asked in surprise.

"Uh huh," he said with a nod.

He held out his hand to show me the now-opened slip of paper. There were several creases on it, as though it had been folded into a fairly small rectangle.

The paper itself was fairly clean, which suggested that it hadn't been on the ground for long.

"Atlas Garage on West 96th," I commented as I read the logo on the stub.

"I think maybe it came out of his pocket, like when he got out his phone to take the picture. We go up to Atlas, and they can match up this check number to an employee."

"And we have a witness who can confirm that the guy was here at the time of the murder as opposed to the stub being left at another time," I stated. "This guy's toast."

"Let's go talk to her," he said as he tucked the check stub into an evidence bag. "And if we can get her mother to agree to it, we can bring her in to do a line up after we pick the guy up."

So we chatted with Lucy, who seemed both enthralled and frightened by what she'd seen.

"When I looked, I saw him standing there with a board in his hand. I didn't think about it at first…I didn't even realize there was a body on the ground. And then he tossed the board and pulled something out of his pocket. I couldn't really see it, but it was either a camera or his phone because he took a picture, and then he ran down the street and got into a little red piece of shit car. I don't know what kind, but it was old and beat up."

"That's great, Lucy. Thanks."

And it really was great. This was the first witness we'd come across in eight murders. Or at least, the first one willing to speak up.

I let Bobby have a go at the mother, since he has a way with women, and after only a few minutes he managed to talk her in to letting Lucy do the lineup.

"As soon as we can get our hands on him, we'll give you a call, okay?" he said in parting.

"And he won't be able to see her, right? I mean, it'll be completely anonymous?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay."

We left Red Hook and drove to Atlas Garage, where we were given the name Brendan Ellis.

We ran his name through the system. He didn't have a record, but he _did_ own a 1992 Ford Escort.

"That definitely qualifies as a piece of shit car," I commented.

The listed address was only a few blocks from the garage, so we quickly headed over to his apartment, and on the way, Bobby checked in with Alex.

He'd traded texts with her earlier, after she finished her meeting with Theresa. He'd let her know about the latest on the case, and she'd made mention of the fact that the meeting had gone as well as she could've hoped.

So I was surprised to hear him sound concerned when he placed the call as I drove us from Atlas to Ellis' home.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked her quietly. "Should I…"

And it's not like I was trying to eavesdrop, but what else could I do? We were three feet apart.

"Okay…okay…yeah, we'll talk about it later. And um…"

He trailed off without finishing his sentence, and so I said, "For the love of God, just say it. You're not on a com device this time."

He rolled his eyes at me, and then told her that he loves her.

And yeah, okay, so it's unprofessional.

Sort of.

But not really.

And like I said – it's just me.

What do I care?

It's not like I didn't watch them hang all over each other in the bar last night.

Hell, only a couple of hours ago, I watched him buy a diamond ring that I know for a fact is currently in his pants pocket because he was afraid to leave it at 1PP.

He hung up the phone and looked at me as I searched the street for a place to park near Ellis' place.

"Anything you want to talk about?" I asked him.

"She's fine. Just had an unusual run-in that kind of threw her off her game."

I checked my watch after I put the car in park and then I looked at Bobby in concern.

"She can't afford to be off her game. She's got a press conference in ten minutes, right?"

"She pulled it together."

"She does that well," I agreed.

"Yeah, she does, but I really hate that she has to keep doing it. When are we ever going to catch a break?"

"After this week," I said with forced confidence. "Friday Holt will tell Ross thanks but no thanks and then we can all get back to the business of catching killers."

We got out of the car and headed for Ellis' building.

"Hey, Logan. Check it out."

I looked to see what had caught Bobby's eye.

A red Escort, parked up the block. We changed direction and went over to the car so that we could peek through the windows.

"What's that on the floor?" I asked, but the question was only rhetorical because it was pretty obvious, considering that the container was on its side and some fluid had leaked out, creating a hole in the floor mat.

"I'd say battery acid in the car owned by the recipient of the check stub we found at the scene gives us probable cause," he replied.

"Good. Then we don't have to be nice, because I'm really not in the mood."

We left the car and went into the building and then took the stairs to the third floor.

"Try not to get shot at this time, okay?"

He smirked and said, "Yeah, and you try to keep up."

"I'm hoping there won't be any running going on this time."

"And I'm hoping there's no shooting, either."

"Amen to that," I said as I banged on the door. "Brendan Ellis! Open up! NYPD!"

There was no sound coming from inside of the apartment, but I could still just picture him scrambling around destroying evidence while we stood outside, so I knocked one more time and then gave Bobby the look as I drew my weapon.

He nodded and pulled his out, too, and then I moved out of the way while he stepped back and then easily kicked the door in.

We burst into the apartment and found Brendan, with his back to the room, typing furiously on a laptop. He had headphones on and must have been rocking out pretty hard because once we were inside, I could hear the rhythm of the music even from ten feet away. And he clearly hadn't heard the knocking, nor had he noticed that his door was now barely hanging by the hinges.

From our position, we could see that Ellis had uploaded the photo of his victim onto the laptop and he was currently paused in his typing so that he could stare at the picture.

There was a revolver on the table next to the laptop.

"Gun," I commented quietly.

Bobby nodded and then gestured for me to go around to the left while he moved to the right. We needed to take him before he noticed us and reached for the gun.

Ellis made a sound, a sniffling or something and I looked at Bobby as we continued to fan out.

"Is he crying?" I mouthed.

Bobby shrugged in response and then held up three fingers and did a quick countdown.

As he dropped the last one, he lurched quickly into Brendan's line of sight and when he turned, startled by the appearance of a strange man in his living room, I lunged at him, tackling him and taking him out of his chair and onto the ground.

He didn't resist me at all.

Instead, he went limp while I flipped him onto his stomach and cuffed his hands behind his back.

Bobby confiscated the gun while I read Brendan his rights. The ear buds had come out when I tackled him and now the music was easily heard, so I arrested him to the tune of Comfortably Numb.

"Do you understand your rights?" I asked him when I finished. I pulled him up to his feet while Bobby righted the overturned chair and then sat down and looked to see what Brendan had been up to on the computer.

"Yeah."

"Good. Because you're under arrest for murder. You know that, right? That girl right there," I said, pointing at the picture still on the screen. "What's her name?"

"I killed her."

"We know. Who is she?"

"I killed her," he said again, and he looked to be in complete shock.

Was it possible that we'd actually found a remorseful killer?

"Brendan," Bobby said easily as he turned around in the chair. "We need her name so we can notify her family."

"Melissa Nolan."

"Okay," I said, catching Bobby's eye. He got up and stepped away, pulling out his phone to call CSU. "Good. And this is for the contest, right?"

"Yeah," he answered.

He dropped his head, trying to wipe his nose on his shirt sleeve, but he couldn't quite reach it since his hands were cuffed behind his back.

He looked up at me in frustration, but then he sighed and said, "You're taking me to jail?"

"Oh yeah," I replied. "But we need to know the details. We might be able to get you a break on your sentence if you can give us something useful."

"I don't want a break," he said firmly. "But take me in and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

TBC...


	40. Chapter 40

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I hung up with Bobby and felt marginally better.<p>

Not because he'd said anything in particular, but just because.

I had a few minutes before I needed to head downstairs, but before I could get started on anything, my phone rang.

"Eames," I answered.

"Hi, honey."

"Dad?"

"Surprised to hear from me?" he countered.

"Well, yeah," I admitted. "Are you and Mom still in Boston?"

"We got back late last night. Her sister is doing much better, and I think we were starting to get on her nerves," he said. Then he chuckled and added, "Or at least _I _was getting on her nerves."

I checked my watch and then leaned back in my chair.

I could talk for two minutes.

"That sounds about right. She never did care much for you, did she?"

"Now that just hurts, Alex," he joked. "But you're right. She tried to talk your mom out of marrying me, but lucky for me your mom is hardheaded."

"All good Eames women are," I replied, since I knew that was going to be his next statement.

"Yes, they are. So tell me what I've been missing out on. We haven't spoken in weeks, and I'm trying not to take that too personally."

"I've just been really busy and…"

"Too busy for your father?"

I sighed and looked at my watch again.

"Of course not. But I'm actually on my way out of the office now, so…how about we try for dinner on Saturday night?"

Saturday.

By then, I could be unemployed.

Or married.

Or possibly both, because I had a feeling that if things went south on Friday, I wouldn't be able to stop myself from whisking Bobby away to the no-wait state of Connecticut.

I could see it now…

_No, I didn't get fired, Dad, but I quit along with thirty-three other members of the NYPD. Oh, and I got married, too._

Wouldn't _that_ make for interesting dinner conversation?

"It's a date," he said happily, oblivious of my predicament. "Bobby, too, right?"

"You really like him, don't you?" I asked, unable to keep from smiling.

"He makes my baby girl happy. What's not to like?" he replied. "So tell me what's new with you? What kind of cases do you have going on?"

"Dad, are you seriously going to tell me that you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"Haven't you been watching the news?"

"You know your aunt," he said on a groan. "It's that damn game show network twenty-four-seven. I haven't seen the news since I left town two weeks ago."

"Oh," I said as I glanced at my watch again. "Well, tune into Channel 7 for their noon broadcast. You'll get a kick out of it."

"Why?"

"You'll see. I really need to run, Dad. I'll talk to you again soon."

Ten minutes later, I was in front of the cameras.

I was slightly nervous about what Theresa was going to throw at me because even though we'd had a nice enough chat this morning, that didn't mean she wouldn't bury me alive if she got the chance.

Reporters could make their career by busting open a big story and since I was currently hiding a huge secret by the name of Bobby, it stood to reason that the possibility existed that someone might find out.

Just before I started to speak, I got a text from Bobby.

_**We caught one of the killers and he wants to talk. This might be that break we've been waiting for. On our way to 1PP now.**_

I wasn't going to make any kind of announcement about that now, but it sounded like maybe it would all come to a head soon. I smiled and tucked my phone back into my pocket and then braced myself for the first question.

"Captain, yesterday it was suggested that you have ties to the Italian mafia due to an incident involving Enzo Lettiere."

"Is that a question?"

"No, but this is. Isn't the fact that charges against him were dropped further evidence of those ties?"

"No, it's actually evidence that the justice system in this country is still in proper, working order."

"Because he's innocent?" the mouse asked skeptically.

"That's right. And it's a travesty that it was assumed otherwise simply because of his affiliation with Toscano. Mr. Lettiere has never been convicted of any murder, and until Sunday, he'd never even been charged with one."

"But wasn't it actually because of the fact that his knife was sticking out of the chest of the victim?"

"Yes, but if the investigation had been handled properly, charges never would've been filed. After examination of the victim by the ME, it's been shown that Mr. Lettiere is physically incapable of having committed the crime."

"So now you're saying that the detectives at the 7th precinct are incompetent?"

"I'm not saying that at all. I'm saying..."

"That they were screwing up," the mouse interrupted. "Until you stepped in and saved the day, right?"

"Are you calling me a super hero, Herb?" I asked with heavy sarcasm.

Several reporters laughed and the mouse closed his mouth.

Theresa stood patiently off to one side with her hand raised slightly in an effort to get my attention.

And like I said, even after our conversation this morning, I was still unsure of her motive as far as I'm concerned.

She was either going to go for the throat or pitch me a grapefruit.

I was hopeful about it, since she wasn't just shouting out damning interrogatives, so I bit the bullet.

"Theresa," I said with a nod in her direction.

"I was just going to say that I find it refreshing that someone of your position is so dedicated to making sure that the proper person is behind bars. We see it a lot with officers fresh out of the academy, but usually by the time someone hits captain, it's all about numbers."

Wow.

Not just a grapefruit, but an out and out compliment.

I guess I made a good impression on her after all.

"Thank you," I said.

"No need to thank me. I spoke with a high-level member of your department earlier today, and he shared with me some of the highlights of your career, and I have to say that I'm very impressed. You don't take short cuts. Ever."

"Is there a question in there?" another reporter called out jokingly.

"Here's my question," Theresa said. "Why in the world would Mayor Holt consider, even for only one second, moving you out of Major Case? It would be the biggest mistake of his career."

_Oh my God._

Did she really just say that?

She was insinuating that he'd be an idiot to make the change, and even though these media sessions were only sometimes picked up by the national networks, they were definitely a regular part of the local news, and local was all Holt cared about.

His constituency was _only_ local.

It seemed like everything around me slowed down as I stared at her in open-mouthed shock, and then suddenly things went back to normal speed as questions flooded in.

"Is Mayor Holt still considering replacing you with former Captain Danny Ross?"

"When will he make the announcement?"

"Will you be taking another position within the NYPD?"

"Does the shake-up have anything to do with your alleged affair with Detective Logan?"

I did my best to answer all of the questions.

"It's a possibility, yes."

"Friday."

"It's very unlikely."

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

While I provided the answers, my mind scrambled to figure out what I'd done to win her over.

And who had she talked with about me?

Moran?

Or Stanley?

Whoever it was, she must have called him as soon as she finished with me.

I finished the press conference and, after sharing a quick, appreciative look with Theresa, I went inside the building,

And I still don't completely trust her, but damn…her statement went a long way towards turning the tide for me.

As usual, my phone rang while I was still in the back hall.

"Eames."

"Once a week," Zaring said.

"I'm sorry?"

"If you stay on as captain, I'd like you to do a weekly press conference. Would you agree to that?"

"Are we negotiating terms? What does Holt say about it?"

"After what Theresa said on camera today? I think we both know what he's going to say. He was ready to go with you yesterday, after that little resignation letter stunt, until the mafia thing popped up."

"I had nothing to do with those resignation letters."

"I never thought for a second that you did. I'm just saying…you cleared up the Italian stumbling block and his intelligence was called into question should he make the change. It's practically a done deal. If you can pull one more rabbit out of your hat…"

"You mean like catching the FBK?"

"Are you kidding me?" he boomed. "That would be Ross' only remaining viable argument, that your detectives can't find this guy. So how's it coming? Are you close to catching him?"

"Goren and Logan are closing in on him, yes. I'm going up now to watch the interrogation of one of the killers."

"Hot damn, Captain. This battle's turned into a good old-fashioned ass-whipping," he said on a laugh. "So…weekly press briefings? You're my girl, right?"

I bit back the retort that was on the tip of my tongue because I knew he was trying.

"Once a week, time permitting," I conceded.

"Excellent."

"And you really have to stop calling me your girl," I added, unable to stop myself.

He was quiet for a moment and then he laughed loudly.

"Kenny keeps telling me I need to learn how to appreciate your honesty," he replied. "And maybe he's right. Okay, Alex. It's a deal. And if your boys come through on FBK, I'll even add _my_ letter to the stack if Holt tries to move you."

He didn't wait for my response, but instead just hung up the phone, so I stood in the hallway listening to dial tone for a moment as the realization seeped in.

Zaring's behind me now, too?

How the hell did that happen?

My phone rang again before I could put it back into my pocket.

This time, it was Stanley.

"You know you could've told me," I said when I answered.

"Told you…wait, how did you know?"

"Who else could it have been?"

"Good point. Yeah, I'm sorry about that."

"Sorry?" I asked in confusion. "Why? It must have been the final push she needed."

"What?"

I paused for a moment as I realized that he and I were talking about two completely different things.

"Let's start this again. Did you talk to Theresa about me?"

"I haven't spoken with her since last night."

"Oh," I replied. So…Moran? "Okay, so then what are you talking about? What are you sorry for?"

"I…um…sort of broke one of your lamps."

"In the apartment?"

"Well, yeah. Traci came over late last night, and we…"

"Got it," I interrupted. "And don't worry about it. It's your place now."

"I know, but it's still got some of your stuff."

"That I left behind by choice. If it held any kind of sentimental value for me, I would've taken it."

"Okay," he agreed. "So what happened with Theresa? Someone talked to her about you?"

"You didn't catch the live feed?" I asked, because even though the networks had mostly stopped running the conferences live, choosing instead to air them during their noon broadcast, the police network still ran it live every day.

"No, I was in a meeting with Paulson."

"From the 7th?"

"Yeah," he answered, but then he didn't elaborate.

"Oh. Okay, so Theresa came through for me. And now Zaring's pretty much on my side, too."

I filled him in on the conversation I'd had with the commissioner.

"It's going to be a good week, Captain," he said when I finished, and I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was smiling.

"I hope so."

"FBK?"

"I'm going upstairs now. Mike and Bobby caught the latest killer and he's supposedly ready to talk."

"Let me know."

I hung up with Maas and went upstairs, and as soon as I got off the elevator, Yuille and Wyatt came hurrying over to me.

"Nice briefing, Captain," Wyatt said. "But I think you need this FBK bust to seal the deal."

"That pretty much sums it up," I agreed.

"Let us help," Yuille said. "We just finished the paperwork on Angela. It's ready to go to the DA as soon as you sign off on it. We can do Goren and Logan's scut work to save them some time."

"You're offering to go blind looking through Facebook printouts?" I questioned skeptically.

I know they're good guys, but still…no detective likes doing that kind of work, especially not _only_ that kind of work.

"We're a team, Captain," Yuille stated. "Isn't this how it works?"

"Well, as long as he can do scut work and still get off in time for his date tonight," Wyatt joked.

Yuille glared at Wyatt and then looked at me and said, "It doesn't matter. I can postpone if I need to."

"Where are Goren and Logan?" I asked.

"Interrogation," Wyatt said with a nod toward Interrogation Three.

"I wouldn't know where to tell you to start," I admitted. "I don't know exactly where they are on this."

"Well, I know they wanted to call all of the female friends on Delaney's list to see if they can ID the Jane Doe, right? And the file is here, the one from Paramus. We can start looking through that, too."

"Okay," I agreed with a nod. "Get to it, and let me know what you find. I'm going to listen in on the interrogation, and when they're done, the five of us will do a rundown."

"Yes, ma'am," Wyatt said. He and Yuille both turned and started towards the conference room where Mike and Bobby still had the evidence spread out for easier access.

"Oh, and Yuille," I called out. He stopped and turned around and I said, "Date?"

And I was only partly teasing. Because even though it's not really my business, if he said Christy, I was going to lose a lot of respect for him.

"Yeah, it's um…Sarah Wolfe," he answered. "You thought I was going to say Christy, didn't you?"

"No, but you can't blame me for asking."

Well, he probably could, but he didn't. He just nodded and smiled at me and then joined Wyatt in the conference room.

I went into the observation room and watched for a moment without clicking on the intercom.

Sometimes the body language is easier to read when there aren't any voices to taint perspective.

Bobby had the chair turned around backwards and was sitting with his legs wide and his forearms propped on the back of the chair. It was an open and conversation-inviting position.

Mike was sitting on the edge of the table, with his back to the glass and his body angled towards the suspect.

They were both close to the young man, who had tears streaming down his face.

I reached up and hit the button.

_**"…so you can understand**_," the man was saying.

"_**Because you think your life is more important than the life of Melissa**_," Mike replied.

"_**I didn't say that."**_

_**"Maybe not, but you killed her in an effort to save yourself,"**_ Bobby reasoned. _**"You took her life on the off chance that it might help you out of this mess you've gotten yourself into."**_

_**"I should've just killed myself."**_

_**"You want me to argue with you?"**_ Mike asked him.

Ellis brought his eyes up and stared at Mike for a minute and then Bobby.

_**"I wanted to. But I'm a coward."**_

_**"Don't be one now," **_Bobby encouraged. _**"Be the hero. Tell us who's behind this."**_

_**"I don't know. I saw it in a chat room. The guy's anonymous."**_

_**"How was the payment going to be made?"**_

_**"The money's sitting in an offshore account. He said he'd text the winner the account access information."**_

_**"And the losers?"**_

_**"The losers get the information on when the next round starts."**_

_**"The next round?" **_Bobby asked, echoing my thoughts.

_**"It's not just a one-time thing."**_

One more reason why we need to catch this guy sooner rather than later.

_**"So how do you know this money even exists?"**_

_**"I saw it."**_

_**"You saw the money?"**_

_**"He made a screenshot of the account balance. Exactly a million dollars."**_

_**"A screenshot. And he posted it to the Automator file?"**_

_**"That's right."**_

_**"Bullshit. We've been in the Automator account. It only has pictures of dead girls."**_

_**"So then he took it back out. I don't know. But I saved it."**_

I perked up at his statement, and I noticed that Mike and Bobby shared a look, too.

"_**You saved it?"**_

_**"You'll find it when you go through my laptop,"**_ he insisted. _**"I kept looking at it, trying to get my nerve up to go through with it. It's the only reason why I did it."**_

"_**Okay," **_Bobby said as he got up_**. "Sit tight. We'll be back."**_

The two of them left the room and I met them out in the hall.

"Did you catch all of that?" Mike asked me in disgust. "He's into a loan shark for half a mil, so he decides to kill to get it. And we're supposed to feel sorry for him?"

"No," Bobby answered. "But I can see why he did it more than any of the others."

"Where's the laptop?"

"Scott's going through it now," Mike answered as he pulled out his phone. "I'll give him a call."

"You think he'll be able to get something off of a screenshot?" I asked Bobby as Mike wandered a few feet away to make the call. "Maybe backtrack the account?"

"I hope so," he said, and as he stood there, I noticed that he ran his hand over his leg a few times.

"Are you okay?"

"What? Oh…yeah, I'm fine."

"You keep rubbing your leg. Did you get hurt when you picked up Ellis?"

"No."

I stared at him for a moment, but then he said suddenly, "I need to see those photos again."

"Which ones?"

"The other girls. The ones we didn't know about. Which one was first?"

"I don't know if Scott could tell."

"We need to know," he said as he headed for the conference room.

"Oh, hey, I've got Wyatt and Yuille lending a hand," I said as I followed him down the hall.

"Good. They can help me put them on a timeline."

"Timeline?" Mike asked as he caught up to us. "And Scott found the screenshot. He's emailing it now, and he's going to see what he can get from it."

"Okay. We need to work on that, and we need to focus on those other girls. We keep running after the new ones, but we haven't asked why this whole thing got started."

"A competition," Mike stated. "Right?"

"Yeah, but why?" I posed, picking up on Bobby's train of thought.

"Exactly. Because it's almost always about the first one, right?"

TBC...


	41. Chapter 41

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>"The corner?"<p>

"Fifteen minutes."

I gave Alex a nod and moved from the doorway of her office back to my desk where I grabbed my suit jacket from the back of my chair.

"Go home, Mike," I said.

"It's here somewhere," he said.

He was kicked back in his chair with his feet propped up on his desk while he read over the Paramus file for what must be at least the hundredth time today.

"It's not. We have to find it somewhere else."

Because we'd gone over everything.

Repeatedly.

After the interrogation with Ellis, we'd made marginal progress, but not nearly what I'd hoped.

Although thanks to Wyatt and Yuille, we'd managed to nail down the identity of the Jane Doe found in Corlears.**  
><strong>

"_Cynthia Rorer_," Yuille had said earlier when he and Wyatt burst into the conference room. "_That's your Corlears Jane Doe_."

"_Are you sure_?" Mike asked as he got to his feet and picked up a Sharpie.

Cynthia was one of the female friends on Delaney's list that they'd been unable to confirm was still living, so they'd made the trip to Lower Manhattan to check out her apartment.

"_Her place was empty, but we found pictures_," he said as he tossed a couple of photographs onto the table. "_It's definitely her. Oh, and it looks like she had a cat, but there wasn't one around."_

_"Delaney,"_ I said with a nod as I looked at Mike. "_He probably took it to the animal shelter."_

_"Okay,"_ Mike said as he wrote her name under the correct picture. "_So now we've got names for all eight of the most recent ones."_

"_But we're still striking out with the older ones_," I remarked as I picked up the stack of photos again. "_There's got to be a way to figure out the order that these pictures were posted."_

But so far we still couldn't put them into any kind of order.

So even though I felt sure that the first kill was significant, we didn't know which one that was.

No other precincts had come forward, so we basically had pictures of the additional five dead girls and only one slim case file to work from. The one from Paramus.

"I wonder how Scott's coming with that screenshot," Mike said as he dropped his feet to the floor and tossed the file on the desk.

"He would've called if he had something."

"And Liz was supposed to be looking over the autopsy results," he added, tapping a finger against the Paramus file.

"You know she'll call," I reminded him.

"I know," he said on a heavy sigh. He glanced around the room and seemed to suddenly realize that it was late.

"Where's Wyatt?"

"He and Yuille left a couple of hours ago."

"Oh," he said as he pulled out his phone. "Damn, and I missed a call from Liz."

He shook his head, obviously annoyed with himself, and then he listened to the message.

I watched him as he listened, hoping that maybe it was work-related and that she'd made some huge discovery, but after a moment, I could tell that it was strictly personal.

Or at least, that's what the grin on his face suggested.

"Yeah, okay. I'm out of here," he said as he shoved his phone back into his pocket.

"We'll get back on it in the morning," I stated, knowing the case was bugging him just as much as it was me.

"I know. So you've got your…" he began, but then he trailed off when the door to Alex's office came open.

"Yeah," I said, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

The ring.

I ran my hand over the outside of my pocket again, just for confirmation that it was in fact still there.

And I knew it was.

I'd spent the majority of the day with my hand in my pocket, feeling the softness of the velvet fabric that covered the box.

For some reason, it seemed to help me think.

Touching that box was almost as good as having Alex sitting beside me.

Crazy, I know.

And even crazier that this step wasn't scaring the hell out of me.

I bought her a diamond ring.

Never in my wildest dreams had I predicted this day would come.

Or at least not prior to last summer, anyway.

But now, knowing she loves me and that she wants to be married to me…it's mind-boggling.

So if I could just solve this damn case and help secure her position in Major Case…

She caught my eye as she crossed the squad room, heading for the elevator.

I'd planned to go first, but it didn't really matter, and since I'd gotten caught up talking to Logan, it worked out fine this way, too.

She'd wait for me at our corner.

I stayed at my desk just long enough to let the elevator doors close on Alex, and then I said to Mike, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"You need a ride in the morning?"

"I don't think so. I'll call you if I do."

So I left the squad room, thinking about killing competitions and unidentified girls and offshore accounts containing a million dollars.

And of course, Alex. She was usually foremost in my mind.

She'd mentioned earlier about our Saturday evening plans with her parents. And it was fine with me, except for the fact that I'd kind of had that night in my head as when I was going to give her the ring.

But I'd come up with another time.

Maybe even Friday night, because hopefully we'd have something to celebrate.

It sure sounded like things were moving in the right direction towards this pivotal meeting, so…like I said. If Mike and I can take away the last bit of ammunition that Ross might have by solving this FBK thing, then there'll be no reason for Holt not to do the right thing.

I walked down the block and saw the SUV parked at the corner, so I did a quick scan of the area first, now paranoid about who might be watching. Surely no one would be following me, but had someone watched Alex leave 1PP, and now they were wondering why she'd cut off the engine but was still just sitting in the car?

It was always a possibility.

But I didn't see anyone, so I climbed into the SUV where I was greeted enthusiastically by Alex.

_Very_ enthusiastically.

In fact, it almost worried me, because as she kissed me, she ran her hand over my thigh and I started wondering what I would say if she encountered the jewelry box.

Because I want it to be a surprise.

I want to give her all of the romanticism that I'm pretty sure she never had with Joe.

So I put my hand over hers, holding it in place against my leg, a mere inch or so away from the bulge in my pocket.

She didn't seem to notice.

She was too busy kissing me.

"Are you okay?" I asked when she finally pulled away.

"We don't have to go someplace warm," she said quietly, keeping her hand in mine. "We don't have to go anywhere at all."

"So…no honeymoon?" I deduced despite the fact that her words seemed to be a continuation of our talk this morning.

"I didn't say that," she answered, leaning in to kiss me again. "But it doesn't matter where we are. Do you know what some of my best memories are, of our time together since we've been a couple?"

I watched her expectantly and waited for her to elaborate.

"The weekends we spent in Mike's spare bedroom. You know, it was just me and you…"

"I think I can probably arrange to go to Mike's place for our honeymoon," I teased. She smiled fully and then turned back to start the engine.

"You know what I mean. I just don't want you to think that we have to go somewhere exotic. There's no need for that. Or for a ring or a fancy ceremony…it's just supposed to be about us, right?"

"It is," I agreed.

I leaned across the console and slid my hand over her thigh while at the same time I started kissing her neck.

"But that doesn't mean I don't want to give you the best of everything," I continued as I ran my lips across her skin.

"You already did," she countered. "You."

She was in a different mood tonight, and I could only guess that her run-in with Delgado was still on her mind, but we'd get to that.

She'd talk when she was ready.

In the meantime, I spent the drive home getting her so worked up that by the time we parked and went inside, she was nearly over the edge.

"It's a good thing Theresa didn't follow you," I said when I had her stripped down and pinned against the wall.

"Are we going to talk about her now?" she asked breathlessly.

"You know how my mind works," I said with a smirk.

She pulled her hand from beneath mine and reached down to stroke over the length of me.

"Yes, I do," she coyly.

And just like that, the tables were turned.

Not that there are ever any losers in our version of power plays.

She stepped away from the wall, backing me up until my knees were against one of the kitchen chairs, and then she nudged on my shoulders until I sat down.

She moved closer to me, stepping in between my legs, and then she started kissing her way down my throat to my chest, continuing on a downward track until I could feel her breath _right_ there and suddenly it was me who was right on the edge and I sure as hell wasn't thinking about anything anymore…nothing except for how good she makes me feel and how the more I tell myself that the legalities of marriage don't matter as long as we love each other, the more I want her to be my wife.

I let my head fall back as I was taken over by the incredible sensations she was creating and then I had to stop it.

I have to _have_ her…it has to be both of us because that's the way we've always done things.

I reached for her, bringing her up until she straddled my lap where I sat in the chair, and finally she was over me, surrounding me, and I was pushing up into her unreservedly as her mouth sought mine.

Her hands gripped the chair back, using it as leverage as we worked together to get back to that precipice. Considering how close I'd been only moments ago, it went on for quite some time.

And afterwards, as I sat there stroking my hands over her back while I tried to slow down my breathing, I thought about the ring in my pocket. I wasn't sure where my pants had ended up, but for some reason, I had the strong urge to feel that box again, to make sure it was there.

I wrapped my arms tighter around her and then stood up and turned around, setting her down in the chair instead.

"Where are you going?" she asked when I moved away from her.

"I'll be right back."

My pants were only a few feet away so I bent down and picked them up, feeling the fabric in search of that telltale lump.

"You don't have to put those on," she said as she watched me questioningly. I glanced back at her as her eyes traveled over me appreciatively. "In fact, I'd really rather you didn't. What's your hurry?"

"I'm not in any hurry," I replied. "I'm just…"

I trailed off as I looked her over…the way her hair fell over her shoulders and how her skin was red in places, marked from the roughness of my five o'clock shadow, and how she just had this overall glow about her…

And it hit me that we didn't need candlelight or mood music to make the moment.

_We'd _just made the moment.

So really, what better time was there than this?

I turned my back to her and reached in the pocket, pulling out the box and then letting the pants drop to the floor.

I took a deep breath, mocking myself for my nervousness since I already knew what her answer was going to be, but still…I took a second breath and then I turned around and stood next to her for a moment before dropping down to one knee.

TBC...


	42. Chapter 42

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>"And you waited until now?"<p>

"I…wanted to…I don't know. Savor the moment a little. You know, keep it between us."

"Huh."

"Oh, come on, Liz."

"No, it's fine."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," she said with a grin. "Now let me see it."

I held out my hand, showing off the diamond that was now on my finger.

It was risky for me to have it on, even here in the morgue, but I couldn't resist wearing it while I stopped by to see Liz.

I was overdue for a little girl talk anyway, and I was tired of hiding it.

All day yesterday, I kept it in my pocket, and it was going to have to go in there again today, but not just yet.

I wasn't at work yet.

I'd stopped by the morgue first, on business of course, but also for some of that aforementioned girl talk.

And even though I can't wear the ring at work, any time I'm outside of the office, I plan to keep it on.

Which, again, is dangerous, but it's a risk I'm willing to take.

Bobby put it on my finger for me on Tuesday night, after he'd finished his down-on-one-knee proposal that would be forever etched in my mind.

"Wow," Liz said appreciatively. "You've got to love a man who knows his jewelry. And his woman, because it's got your name written all over it."

"I know," I said with a smile. "It's exactly what I would've picked."

"You should've seen the one my ex bought for me," she said wryly. "The only thing smaller than that stone was his penis."

I barked out a laugh and looked at her skeptically.

"Okay, relatively speaking," she added with a shrug. "But damn…Alex. That's gorgeous."

"I hate taking it off," I admitted. "And I'm not usually all that much on jewelry."

"So he gave it to you Tuesday night?"

"Uh huh. It was…memorable."

"Memorable, huh? Romantic-memorable? Or…stumbling and dropping the ring in the toilet kind of memorable?"

"In the toilet?" I laughed. "Please tell me there's no true story involved with that scenario."

She raised an eyebrow at me but then said, "Okay, so it wasn't the toilet, but it may as well have been since that's where the marriage ended up."

"Well, there wasn't any stumbling involved with Bobby," I assured her.

"Dr. Rodgers?"

I quickly pulled my hand from Liz's and put it in my pocket while she turned to see who'd come into the morgue.

"What is it, Luke?"

"I got the full documentation that you requested on that Jane Doe from Paramus," he stated as he crossed the room.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" I asked her, moving so that I could read the report along with her after she took it from her assistant.

"The autopsy mentioned something about a kidney abnormality," she replied as she scanned the ME's notes. "I wanted to see what he had to say about it, something that maybe didn't make it into the final report."

"Kidney abnormality?"

But she ignored me for a moment while she scanned through the notes.

"Scarring," she mumbled. "The ME noted that there was scarring on her kidneys, and it must not have been deemed relevant because it's not in the report."

"Scarring due to what?"

"His guess upon visual inspection was pyelonephritis. There's no way to know for sure now, not without having her exhumed and maybe not even then, but…"

"If she had a kidney disease of some sort, she would've been seen by a specialist," I finished.

"Bingo, Captain."

I pulled out my phone as I headed for the door.

"Thank you!" I called out over my shoulder.

"Any time," she replied easily. "Oh, and Captain…the um…"

I looked back at her and saw her waggling her fingers at me, so then I looked down and realized that I was still wearing my ring.

_That's right, Alex. Get yourself caught in the eleventh hour_, I chastised myself as I gave her a nod and pulled the ring from my finger.

"And I'm going to need to hear details!" she added as I sailed out the door.

Details.

Like I was really going to tell her that Bobby had been completely naked as he'd knelt in front of me and asked me to promise myself to him for the rest of our lives.

That I'd been completely naked when I practically tackled him after he slipped the ring into place, and then we'd had round two right there on the kitchen floor.

And then I figured, yeah, what the hell?

Maybe I would give her details.

Bobby answered his phone as I walked down the morgue hallway. I'd dropped him at our corner about twenty minutes ago, so I figured he'd be in the office by now.

"Mr. Eames," he answered, causing me to start laughing again.

"Oh, you're going to be a progressive kind of guy, huh?" I teased. "Please tell me you're not sitting at your desk where Mike can hear you, or you'll never hear the end of it."

"I'm not at 1PP yet," he replied. "I stopped for coffee, but I'm heading in now. What's up?"

"Liz found a lead for you on the J.D. from Paramus. She may have had a kidney disease, so get her picture out to every nephrologist in New Jersey and you might get a name. Manhattan, too. She might've come into the city."

"Or she might be from the city," he posed. "Just because she was found in Paramus…"

"That's true. But why hasn't anyone claimed her?" I wondered aloud. "Her face has been shown on the news for three days now."

"People don't want to get involved…or they don't believe it could really be someone they know…or they don't watch the news…"

"Yeah, I know. Okay, I'm headed your way now, but get started on that and see what you come up with."

"So did you show Liz?" he asked, his voice dropping to a hushed tone.

"I did," I answered as a smile spread across my face.

"And?"

"She said you did good. Which, by the way, you did. I wish I could wear it all the time."

"Still no word on those regs, huh?"

"Not yet. I think Moran just wants to get through this week before he starts a new fire."

"I guess I can't blame him for that. And it won't kill us to wait a little longer."

"No," I agreed on a sigh.

"Did Liz tell you that Mike's taking her away for the weekend?"

"She mentioned something the other day, but she didn't say anything today. They're still going?"

"I think it's kind of a surprise. You know, it's her birthday tomorrow."

"No, I didn't realize that," I replied. How did I not know that? She's my friend. I should know things like that about her. "Let's make sure we get him out of the office then. Find this guy by tomorrow afternoon, okay?"

"Tomorrow? No, we're going to find him today."

It was a lofty goal, and yet by the time I ran into him and Mike in the squad room, they already had good news.

"Brianna McMahon," Bobby stated triumphantly as I entered the conference room.

"The first girl?" I asked in surprise.

"Dr. Kim, one of two nephrologists in Paramus, confirmed about two minutes ago that our Jane Doe was her patient. Brianna was nineteen and has a Maywood address."

"Go check it out," I said needlessly. "Where are Wyatt and Yuille?"

"We found a suspect associated with Lindsay Hill," Bobby answered. "They went to pick him up."

"Yeah, Scott tracked the URL associated with the photo upload," Logan added. "The idiot actually did it from his home dial-up account."

"So that means we've caught the killers for the last eight victims," I said with a nod. "In less than two weeks' time. Excellent work."

"We're not done yet, Boss," Logan said. "Now that we know the first victim, we'll get the main guy."

Because here's what they deduced yesterday.

The million dollar pot was a hoax.

Scott discovered that the screenshot of the bank account was bogus. Not the account itself, but the balance amount, which meant that this guy had actually opened the account so that it would look authentic, but he only had ten dollars in it, not a million. He'd altered it using a basic photo shop program.

They also learned that the rules of the game that were found in the forum had been posted a day _after_ the first Jane Doe, Brianna McMahon, was killed.

So the working theory is this: Brianna was killed and in order to hide the crime, her murderer set into motion a rash of similar homicides in hopes that the police would consider them all as random.

The intent was never to hide the contest, but rather to keep detectives so busy tracking down the murders committed by contestants that they'd never look closely at motive for any of the killings, since they were supposedly only done as a means to win the pot.

That being said, now that we know the identity of the first girl, it's very possible that Bobby and Mike can track down her killer, someone who likely knew her well, thus his fear of detection and his need for misdirection.

"Good," I said. "I can't think of anything I'd like more than to be able to announce in tomorrow's meeting that we've put the FBK instigator behind bars."

"Nothing?" Mike asked me with a raised eyebrow. Then he looked at Bobby, shaking his head in disappointment before bringing his eyes back to mine.

"Get out of here," I said on a chuckle. "And keep me posted."

Once they were off and running, I spent the next hour in my office. I managed to get a lot of work done, despite the fact that my mind was preoccupied.

Tomorrow's meeting.

D-day.

I'd been invited to it, courtesy of Moran.

_"If Ross is going to be here, then you should be here, too,"_ he'd stated on the phone yesterday.

_"Thank you. I appreciate that. I also appreciate you talking with Theresa the other day."_

_"Theresa the reporter?"_ he asked in surprise.

_"Channel 7."_

_"Why the hell would I talk to her? Although I guess she has come around, hasn't she? Stanley told me you were going to give her a piece of your mind. I see it must have worked."_

_"So you didn't discuss the highlights of my career with her?"_

_"It wasn't me."_

Which meant I was back to being baffled about the source of her information and the cause of her sudden support.

It made me slightly suspicious of her motive, but there was no mistaking the fact that she's firmly behind me now.

Yesterday, when I had to do the press conference with my hair soaking wet because of another unexpected sprinkler system shower, I'd taken quite a bit of ribbing from most of the reporters.

"_Casual Wednesday, Captain_?" the mouse called out, in reference to my jeans and turtleneck sweater.

What he didn't know was that I was really glad that my back-up outfit consisted of a turtleneck because Bobby hadn't exactly been careful with his proprietary kisses the night before.

As for the jeans…well, I'd had a pair of slacks in the locker room, too, but then Jacobs had been vomited on by a suspect and so I'd loaned them to her.

Thirty minutes after that, the room was doused in water, and ten minutes after _that_, I was changed into my jeans and turtleneck and was standing out in front of the cameras.

_"I'm sure it's not news that we're having trouble with the sprinkler system_," I stated.

"_Major Case isn't important enough to have their pipes fixed?"_

_"They're working on it. I'm working on catching killers. Which one do you want to talk about today?"_

"_Tell us about FBK,"_ another reporter called out.

_"I'm not going to comment this particular ongoing investigation."_

_"Because there's nothing new to report?"_

_"Because it's an ongoing investigation and it would be counter-productive,"_ I said smartly.

"_You sound a little put out today, Captain. Are you getting tired of us? Or is it because you know that after Friday you'll be looking for work?"_

That was the mouse again.

And to think I used to take pity on him.

_"She's just tired of you, Herb_," Theresa called out. "_Ask a real question or shut the hell up."_

_"Oh, like you have a real question,_" he fired back. "_Last week, you were convinced that the captain is sleeping with one of her detectives, and now suddenly you're defending her?"_

The verbal sparring went back and forth until I finally cleared my throat loudly and then proceeded to do a rundown of all of the current cases.

Well, with the exception of FBK.

"_One more question, Captain_," another reporter called out. "_Herb mentioned Friday…are you worried about the mayor's decision?"_

_"He's in that office for a reason. I'm sure he'll make the right call_," I concluded confidently, and then I left the podium.

Now today, I was thirty minutes away from what might possibly be my last press conference, because if Holt thinks I'm going on camera after he gives my job away, then he's lost his mind.

My phone rang, and I looked at it quickly, thinking maybe it was Bobby, but it wasn't. It was Maas.

"What can I do for you, Captain?" I said when I answered.

"It was Zaring."

"What was?"

"He talked to Theresa."

"Are you kidding me? Why?"

"I don't know, but Denise took a stack of paperwork to his office early Tuesday morning, and later she realized that your jacket was included in that stack. I'd been reading it over last week in preparation for the meeting with the mayor."

"Okay, so he read my file. That still doesn't explain why he would've spoken with her."

"I think maybe it was a little dose of reality for him. Until then, you were just a face on camera. You were making him look good, and Holt look good…I don't think he ever stopped to consider you as a person."

"So he suddenly grew a conscience?"

"It's a hell of a file, Captain. And it's possible I added some notes."

"It's possible?"

"Okay, so I made notes," he admitted. "Like I said, I thought I was going to need it to defend your position, but it never really turned into that after Logan drummed up the resignation letters."

"This whole thing has gotten completely out of control," I commented, although I couldn't help but feel good about the extraordinary level of support I've been receiving.

"Because of Ross," he said venomously. "Well, it'll all be over tomorrow."

"In a good way, I hope."

"Me, too. But I know Ross has gone to see Holt twice this week. He's pushing hard, and we both know he doesn't mind playing dirty."

My phone buzzed with an incoming text, so I told Stanley to hold on while I read the message.

_**Postpone your press conference until this afternoon. We've picked up a guy and we think it's him. If we can get a confession, you can go live with the news of the capture of the original FBK.**_

I typed out a reply.

_**How sure are you?**_

"Stanley?" I said as I put the phone back to my ear. "Can you delay the press conference until this afternoon? I might have something good."

"Holt likes it in the morning so that it makes the noon news. If you put it off and then you don't come through…"

"Hang on," I said as I looked down at my phone again.

_**Call it a hunch. **_

Was I willing to bet the farm on Bobby's hunch?

"Make it for four-thirty. And trust me. This'll be evening news material."

TBC...


	43. Chapter 43

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>It always amazes me how sometimes a case feels like it drags on and on and then suddenly – boom.<p>

Answers fall at your feet like confetti in a tickertape parade.

Bobby and I drove to New Jersey on the hope that we would find something in Brianna's apartment, some lead that would point us in the direction of her killer.

And we were hoping it would happen quickly.

But neither of us expected it to occur as quickly as it did.

Her apartment was clean, neat and organized. Almost as though when she left that last time, she knew she wouldn't be back.

There were no dishes in the sink, or dirty laundry in the hamper.

The trash can was empty.

The thermostat was set low.

"Pretty girl," I said as I picked up a framed photo of her and a woman who I guessed to be her mother. "I guess we have a notification to make, too."

"I doubt she's from here, or someone would've reported her missing. The locals from her hometown will have to do it."

"Ottumwa, Iowa," I said after I opened a desk drawer and poked through her papers. There were birthday cards and letters in there, with that postmark.

"Makes sense," he agreed. "The parents are probably starting to get worried now, but a few weeks without correspondence might not be all that unusual."

"It's like she went on vacation," I commented as I strolled through the empty apartment.

"Exactly like that," Bobby replied. "Look."

I turned around and found him holding up a stack of mail.

"Are you kidding me? Someone's bringing in her mail? Someone cares enough to do that, but no one called in a tip when we aired the photo?"

"Let's talk to the neighbors," he suggested.

So we left the apartment and knocked on the door across the hall.

"Can I help you?" an elderly woman asked cautiously as she peered through the two-inch crack created by the chain lock.

"NYPD," Bobby said gently as he held up his badge. "I'm Detective Goren. This is my partner Detective Logan. We're here about Brianna McMahon."

"Sweet girl. She's been in Florida for…what, three weeks now?"

"Florida. Is that what she told you?"

"Um…no," she answered as it dawned on her why we might be asking. "Did something happen to her?"

"Tell us where you got the idea that she's in Florida if she's not the one who told you."

"Her boyfriend," she said, nodding towards the apartment down the hall. "Or at least, I think he's her boyfriend. His name is Riley. He's been keeping an eye on her place, getting her mail, that kind of thing."

"So Riley said she went to Florida?" I confirmed as I took a few steps in the direction of the indicated apartment.

"That's right. Is Brianna okay?"

"No, I'm sorry," Bobby said as I continued down the hall. "She's not. She was found murdered a few weeks ago, but we weren't able to identify her until today."

"I knew it!" the woman yelled suddenly. "I told him it was her!"

"You saw her picture on the news?" I asked with interest.

"Yesterday. That woman police officer over in the city was talking about it and showing pictures, and I told Riley that one of the girls looked like Brianna, and he laughed about it and told me I needed to get a better prescription for my glasses!"

I caught Bobby's eye and he gave me a nod.

Riley couldn't have spoken with Brianna in weeks and yet he wasn't worried. His neighbor recognized her from the photo and yet he ridiculed her.

There was only one reason why the boyfriend would do such a thing.

"Ma'am, is Riley at home right now? Do you know?"

"He works nights," she said with a nod. "So he sleeps all day. He's in there."

"Okay, go back inside and keep your door shut," Bobby told her. He watched her until she was safely inside and then he turned to me and drew his weapon.

"I don't trust this guy, do you?" he asked me as we moved in front of Riley's door. "He went through a lot of trouble to cover up the fact that he killed his girlfriend."

"Of course, we're basing this assumption on the word of a woman pushing the century mark," I reminded him.

"True. Okay, well, let's see what he has to say."

He turned out to be quite expressive.

"You motherfuckers don't have shit on me, so just carry your sorry asses back to the city."

See, Riley looked like he was one of those guys who was born with a silver spoon in his mouth but he liked to pretend that he was raised on the streets.

At least with his language.

His wardrobe lacked conviction, though, because somehow the Reebok gym shorts and the Coney Island t-shirt just didn't scream gangster.

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" I asked him as I stood in his kitchen.

His place was just as messy as Brianna's was neat, and I couldn't help but wonder how the two of them had ever gotten together.

And then it occurred to me that maybe they didn't.

All we knew was that that's what Riley had told the old lady.

"My mama's dead," he said petulantly.

"Oh yeah? Let me guess. She died of a broken heart when she saw what a little punk her baby turned out to be," I taunted, keeping his attention on me while Bobby made the rounds, checking out everything in plain sight.

"You don't know shit about my mother, you fucking dickhead, so shut the fuck up," he warned as he stepped closer to me.

I just smiled at him, with my hand still resting on the butt of my weapon where it's been since we walked into his apartment.

He'd invited us inside a few minutes ago, claiming he had nothing to hide. That part worried me a little because it either meant he was truly innocent or he was just too cocky to consider that he might get caught.

I was going with the latter for now, but maybe that's just because I don't like him.

"You're all bad ass with that gun and badge," he continued, taking another step so that he was now standing nose to chin with me. "Take away your little toys and I bet you're just a fucking pussy, aren't you?"

I made a point of leaning over until we were actually eye to eye and then I asked him, "Wanna find out?"

"Logan," Bobby said, and at first I thought he was telling me not to poke at the guy too much, but when I stood up straight and looked past Riley over to where Bobby stood near a bookshelf that was ironically devoid of books, I realized that he'd found something.

"What is it?"

"Grounds for an arrest," he said.

I brought my gaze back to Riley and smiled again and then grabbed onto his arm and whirled him around.

"Riley…what's your last name again?" I asked him as I snapped the cuffs around his wrists.

"Fuck you."

"It's Smith," Bobby supplied as continued to look through the papers that had caught his eye.

"Riley Smith? Are you kidding me? That's so unoriginal for a guy like you. I like your idea better," I told him. "Okay, Riley Fuckyou Smith, you're under arrest for the murder of Brianna McMahon."

I finished reading him his rights, despite the fact that he cursed me throughout the entire process, and then I looked at Bobby as he approached me.

"So what is it?" I asked him.

"A printout of the instructions," he said, holding up a piece of paper.

I took it from him and glanced over it briefly before waving it in front of Riley.

"Are you kidding me, Riley? You printed that stuff out? Why'd you do that, huh?"

"It's research, you fucking morons. What, do you two share a fucking brain? I'm a _writer_, okay? I write about murder. I found that forum post and thought it sounded like some fucking cool shit, so I printed it out."

"So you're a writer, but you didn't write this," I clarified.

"What, I'm a writer, so I must write every fucking piece of literature in my crib? I can't have someone else's shit laying around to read? You're a fucking idiot, man."

"Literature?" Bobby questioned skeptically.

"I write shit. _And_ I read shit, okay?" he said in annoyance. Then he glared at me and said, "What d'you got laying around your place, huh? Fucking Penthouse so you can spank the monkey cos you can't find no bitch to fuck your lame dick?"

Like I said, this guy was something else. I'm sure he was trying to piss me off, but I just found him pathetic.

"Yeah," I agreed. "Stacks of Penthouse. But I didn't write any of the articles."

"And I didn't write _that_."

"Uh huh," I said as I held up the paper and started reading aloud. "_You don't want the fucking cops to know who the bitch is so you gotta make sure you fuck up the prints. _You're right, Riley. That sounds nothing like you."

Bobby spoke up, preventing Riley from offering what surely would've been a scathing reply.

"You didn't do anything, so you don't mind us doing a quick search, right?" he asked him.

Because up until now, we were limited to things in plain sight, by virtue of our invitation inside.

"What the fuck ever, man. Knock yourselves out. You ain't gonna find shit," he said with a grin.

"Oh, I think we'll find shit," I said, kicking at piles of dirty laundry that were spread about the living room. "Now sit your ass in that chair and don't move. You got me, Riley?"

He glared at me, but then he sat down in a hard-back chair at the edge of the kitchen.

"We need to make a call," Bobby said quietly to me. I gave him a nod and then walked over closer to Riley.

"So tell me about Brianna," I said while Bobby pulled out his phone to call the locals.

As a courtesy, we'd called Detective Wydner, the Paramus investigator, while we made the drive to Maywood, but now we'd need the Maywood PD to dispatch their CSU so that there wouldn't be any question about the proper handling of evidence.

"She was my girl," he replied.

"See, that's what I can't figure out. Look at this place. You're a pig."

He snorted out a laugh at my comment and said, "You're fucking one to talk."

"Yeah, I get it. Cop. Pig. Ha ha."

"That's some funny shit."

"Hilarious. So…Brianna."

"What can I say? She liked slumming."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"About three weeks ago."

"And you, being the loving boyfriend, agreed to take care of her place while she was gone to…where'd she go again?"

"Florida, dumbass. I told you that already."

"Yeah. Why Florida?"

"To see her mom."

"Uh huh," I agreed as I looked around the room again. Bobby had a stack of papers laying on the table that he'd taken from the bookshelf. I thumbed through them and said, "So we're supposed to believe you're a writer? What do you write?"

"I told you. I write about murder."

"You blog about it," Bobby spoke up, apparently on hold.

"Yeah," he said with a nod. "That's fucking cool shit."

"So you said," I replied blandly.

But really, it wasn't so cool.

Because that gave him reason to have this stuff sitting around his apartment.

And yeah, it looked fishy, but what proof did we have that he'd actually done something wrong?

Just that he's a punk?

Or because he was taking care of Brianna's apartment?

He'd blown off the old lady when she mentioned seeing Brianna on the news, but what did that really prove?

That he just wasn't paying any attention to her because he thought Brianna was in Florida?

"It can all be explained away," Bobby murmured to me after he hung up the phone. "There's nothing concrete."

"But it's him," I said firmly.

"I know."

"So now what?"

Technically, we'd just arrested him based on evidence that he now had an explanation for. It was going to get ugly if we hauled him across state lines only to find out that he's telling the truth.

_But he's not._

"We take him in and we get a confession. And we do it quickly."

I nodded, knowing where his mind had gone.

"If we get him to talk today…"

"I'm going to tell her what we've got and get her to postpone. Think what that'll do for her to be able to announce that this guy's in custody on the night before the meeting with Holt."

"Unless we're wrong. And then she'll look like an idiot. We'll screw her chances."

"So we can wait and not worry about the press conference…just do our jobs and take what comes tomorrow."

"Or we can make her the hero and Holt won't have any decision to make."

"Uh huh. As long as we're right."

"We're right. Text her," I said. "This is the guy."

TBC...


	44. Chapter 44

**Liz POV**

* * *

><p>I had myself taken out of the rotation, beginning at noon.<p>

Mike mentioned wanting to take me out of town for the weekend, work permitting, and since I have more vacation days than I know what to do with, I decided to make doubly sure that _my_ work would permit.

So from lunch time Thursday until eight o'clock Tuesday morning, I'm officially on vacation.

And I can't remember the last time I was so excited by the prospect.

I used to spend vacation days piddling around my apartment.

And maybe I would this time, too.

Maybe Mike would get swamped with this case.

But I was willing to take my chances.

Besides, tomorrow's my birthday.

I've worked on every birthday since the day I turned sixteen, but not this year.

"Got big plans, Doc?" Luke asked me as he helped me clean up from the latest autopsy.

It was nearly two o'clock and I figured that once I got the morgue back in order, I'd check out.

"Oh, she's got plans," Sarah said with a grin.

"Plans for what?"

I looked up at the sound of the new voice in the autopsy suite, and I watched in irritation as Danny came across the room.

"Plans with her boyfriend," Sarah said pointedly. "Detective Logan."

It was humbling to see how quickly Sarah was taking up for me, being protective of both me and Mike.

I've always had acquaintances more so than friends. I guess my personality tends to put most people off.

And even now that I have good friends in Alex and Bobby, it still surprises me a little to find others who seem to like me.

I can only guess that Sarah sees something in me that she can relate to.

Or maybe I'm just more likeable now that I'm with Mike.

"That's going to be difficult, since he's in the middle of botching a big case right now," Danny replied to her assertion, all the while not taking his eyes off of me.

"Do you have business in here?" Luke questioned, also stepping up in my defense. I'm not sure how much he knows about anything, other than the fact that Danny kissed me last week, but the tension in the room was unmistakable. "Because the morgue isn't exactly open to the general public."

"I'm not exactly public," he said as he flashed his NYPD badge. "I'm officially part of the department again."

"Good for you," I said dismissively, even though I hated the idea.

And why had it come to this?

I mean, really.

Why did he have to act like such a jerk?

He could've just come back and quietly applied for an open position and there wouldn't have been any of this hostility floating around.

"Yeah, well I guess I needed it to be official before tomorrow's meeting. You know about that, right?"

Sarah opened her mouth to say something, something which I'm sure was going to be a smartass reply, but I shook my head and nodded towards the door. She and Luke reluctantly left the room, leaving me alone with Danny.

Not that I want to be alone with him, but I also don't need to belittle him in front of my colleagues, and I had a feeling that's where this encounter was heading.

"I know about the meeting. What I don't know is why you're doing this. Alex worked hard to get where she is."

"And I didn't?"

"I didn't say that. But it's her job now, and you're acting like it's your God-given right."

"I didn't come here to fight about it, Liz."

"Then why'd you come?"

"It's your birthday," he said as he reached his hand in his pocket. "I bought you something."

He pulled a jewelry box from his jacket pocket and held it out, but I didn't make any move towards it.

I'd dated the man for the better part of a year. Off and on, but still…he'd never once bought me a present.

"It's not my birthday."

"Yes it is," he argued foolishly. I raised an eyebrow at him and he added, "Isn't it?"

"Tomorrow."

"Oh. Well. Close enough," he said, thrusting the box towards me again.

"I can't accept it."

"You don't even know what it is."

"It doesn't matter. I appreciate the gesture, but…"

"Liz. I'm trying here."

"To do what? Lure me away from Mike? We've already had this discussion."

"I'm trying to show you that you can do so much better. He's not your type, Liz. He's hot-headed and irrational and egotistic..."

"You don't care that I don't want you," I interrupted. "You just can't stand that I want him."

"It's not that," he said lamely, letting his hand drop to his side as he still clutched the box.

"Yes, it is. You came back and expected me to fall at your feet, but I chose him over you. I chose all of them over you and it's driving you crazy. I remember how you used to talk about Bobby and Alex. You can pretend now that you didn't, but you talked about Bobby like a dog, and it's burning you up that he's my friend, a good friend, one who I'd pick over you every single time."

"What happened to you, Liz?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Mine's easy. I spent a year away from everyone I know and love. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but it gave me the opportunity to prioritize and reflect."

"You reflected on all of the times you canceled on me because someone better came along?" I posed, and then I shook my head and added, "You know what? It doesn't matter. This is who I am now, and what happened between us in the past is irrelevant."

"Because of Logan," he said distastefully.

"_Not_ because of Logan. Because of me," I insisted.

I don't want him thinking that if it weren't for Mike I'd be receptive to the idea of being with him.

"So what are you going to do when he gets suspended again?" he asked, ignoring my assertion. "Or maybe next time he gets fired…you know he even put in his letter of resignation over this Eames thing, so he's probably going to be unemployed as of tomorrow, so what then?"

"You think I'm with him because of his career?" I asked, stumped as to his point.

"I understand he was out of a job for almost a year because no other department wanted him. The NYPD is the only one who can tolerate him, and I don't see that lasting very long."

"Okay. Here's what you can't seem to grasp. I don't care what he does for a living. And I'm proud of him for his support of Alex. My letter would be in that stack, too, if I thought it held any weight," I said as my anger overrode my sense of professionalism. "And honestly, I'm sick to death of having this conversation with you, so let's end this right now. I never loved you, not even a little bit, not for one second, and there's not a snowball's chance in hell that I ever will. Even if Mike were to walk through that door right now and dump me flat on my ass, I still wouldn't want to be with you. Is that clear enough for you?"

We stood there for a moment, toe to toe, with me glaring at him in annoyance and him astoundingly shocked by my candor.

"Okay," he said at last. "I'm sorry to take up your time."

I was tempted to say something more, something that might take the sting out of my words, but anything else might be construed as encouragement, so I kept my mouth shut.

"I'll be seeing you around though," he said as he headed for the door. He hesitated with his back to me, and then he reached out and set the jewelry box on the table before continuing. "As captain of Major Case, you know I'll be making trips to the morgue. I'll do my best not to make it awkward for you."

His parting shot only made me more glad that I hadn't tried to take out the sting.

_He's so damn sure he's going to be captain_….the asshole.

"You okay, Doc?"

I closed my eyes briefly before turning around to find Sarah loitering in the doorway.

"You were listening, weren't you?"

"I…um…"

"Sarah," I admonished, sighing heavily as I shook my head at her.

"I'm sorry, but after what happened last time when you two were in here alone, I just…"

She broke off and ran her hand roughly through her hair, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before bringing her eyes back to mine.

"I don't trust him. And I didn't want him to hurt you," she finally said. "So you're okay?"

"I'm fine," I promised, then I smiled and added, "Now quit lurking in the doorway and get in here and help me finish up."

"Luke and I can do this," she reasoned. "You're off the clock. Go get started on your big plans."

I started to argue, but then my cell phone buzzed.

_**Lunch isn't going to happen today, not even a late one, but if you want some entertainment, stop by 1PP. Bobby and I are headed there now with a viable suspect. **_

"Okay," I said as I looked over at Sarah again. "You're right. I'm on vacation. Can you do me a favor?"

"Name it."

I nodded towards the burgundy-colored box sitting on the table near the door.

"Can you find an address for Danny Ross and mail that box back to him?"

"He left it?" she asked as she moved across the room with a curious expression on her face. "What is it? Did you look?"

"I didn't. But feel free to look if you want to, and then send it back to him."

"Will do, Doc. Enjoy your vacation. You can tell me all about it on Tuesday."

"Yeah, sure. Just like you told me all about your date with Yuille," I teased.

Because yesterday I'd gotten surprisingly little out of Sarah.

"_We had a really nice time."_

"_Nice? That's all I get?"_

"_He's very sweet. And interesting. And…"_

"_You slept alone in your own bed, right?"_

"_Yeah, I did,"_ she'd said on a sigh.

But she'd been smiling, just like she was today.

"I've got another date tomorrow night," she replied. "We'll have lunch on Tuesday and swap stories, okay?"

I agreed, although my stories would be censored because I haven't quite gotten the hang of this tell-all attitude, and then I gathered my things and left the morgue.

Twenty minutes later, I was standing in an observation room at 1PP, alongside Alex and Stanley.

"_Slow day in the morgue, Doc_?" Stanley had asked me when I first entered.

"_I'm on vacation_," I replied.

"_And you're spending it here?" _

"_I didn't want to miss this. So, who's the guy?"_

"_Riley Smith,"_ Alex answered. "_He's the neighbor and possibly the boyfriend of the first victim. He was watching her apartment for her, and says that she said she went to Florida."_

"_And?"_

"_And he had a printout of the instructions for eradicating fingerprints."_

"_You think he's the mastermind behind the whole competition?"_

"_I wouldn't call him a mastermind, but yeah…the theory is that he killed his girlfriend, and then started the competition to cover it up."_

We watched through the glass as Mike and Bobby spoke quietly to each other, purposely ignoring Smith.

After another moment, the interrogation began.

"_**You're sure you don't want a lawyer?"**_ Bobby asked him.

"_**I said no. What are you, a fucking idiot**_?"

"Nice," I remarked. "Does he get points for his language?"

"According to Bobby, it gets worse," Alex said on a chuckle. "Apparently he cursed them all the way from Maywood."

"Well, they've got less than two hours to weed through the colorful language and get you a confession," Stanley said to Alex.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I postponed the press conference."

"And Holt is _pissed_," Stanley added.

"He won't be once he realizes my reason behind it."

"That's what I mean. You'd better have a reason or we'll all be towing the unemployment line."

"I didn't ask you to quit for me," Alex reminded him firmly.

"No, you didn't, because that's not your style. But I thought it was the right thing to do when Mike first mentioned it, and I think it even more so now because it's ridiculous that it's come down to this one goddamn interrogation, and yet here we are."

"I'm not worried," Alex said, shifting her gaze back onto Bobby.

Stanley exhaled loudly, and then put his hand on her shoulder.

"I'm not either. I'm just…frustrated. This is all bullshit."

"I know."

"I mean, why should it depend on whether or not two detectives out of two dozen can get a confession from one dumbass with a severe lack of articulation?"

"It shouldn't," I spoke up. "But since it does, aren't you glad it's them?"

TBC...


	45. Chapter 45

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>The clock was ticking.<p>

Normally I wouldn't be too worried because I do some of my best work under pressure.

But at the moment, we've been dancing with Riley for more than an hour and we were nowhere.

Time was running out, and as unfair as it may seem, it would still mean the difference between Alex looking like a genius, or looking completely incompetent.

"We've got guys going through your computer right now. What do you think they'll find?"

"They won't find shit. If they're as dumb as you two, I doubt they'll figure out how to turn the fucking thing on."

"Oh, we turned it on," Mike said, angling around so that he was coming at Riley from the other side. "And guess what we found."

"Seriously? You guys couldn't find your dicks with both hands and a magnifying glass, so there's no way in hell you even got past my password."

"You mean _fuckinggenius07_?" I said casually, enjoying the dismay that fell over his face when he heard the word.

"Yeah, it's anything _but_ fucking genius to actually write down your password, moron," Mike added.

He'd borne the brunt of the taunting from Riley, so I wasn't going to discourage him for getting some shots in. Besides, it was the competitiveness of the whole situation that was ultimately going to be Riley's downfall.

He wants to prove to us how smart and innocent he is, but he'd step in it soon enough.

"Yeah, so what?" Riley retorted childishly. "So you wanna look at my cached porn files and my blog notes? Have at it."

"Oh, we did," Mike said and then he leaned over and put his hands flat on the table. "We went through every file, and I've got to tell you Riley. You're a disturbing little fuck."

"My partner's right," I said. "I think you're the kind of guy who gets off on murder."

"I _write_ about it. That's it," he insisted.

"And your writing suddenly got better after you killed Brianna. Nothing quite like having real life experience to back up the words, right?"

"I didn't kill anybody."

"And you didn't type out the instructions for how to keep the victim from being identified, either, did you? The knife…the acid…the hammer…"

"I Googled it, dumbass. And when I found it, I printed it out."

"As reference material."

"Right."

"Then why can't we find that search in your browser history?"

"Because you're a couple of stupid fucking cops."

"Yeah, okay, sure. But why can't our tech guys find it?"

"Maybe they're fucking idiots, too."

"No, see…they're not. You want to know what they found?"

Up to this point, I've been mostly telling the truth.

But now it was time to lie.

And I really had to sell it because so far, we didn't have much else to go on.

"Why don't you stop playing fucking games and just lay your lame ass cards on the table," he said as he hopped up from his chair.

We were definitely making him nervous, which only boosted my confidence about the lie I was going to tell because he's expecting us to have more, so when I throw something out there, it just might stick.

"You need to sit down," Mike said, putting a heavy hand on Riley's shoulder.

"Dude, don't fucking touch me," he replied, jerking away from the contact. "I don't know where the fuck your hands have been! Especially if you were cruising the porn on my laptop cos…"

"Sit down, Riley!" I shouted as I slammed my hand down on the table, interrupting his juvenile tirade.

He startled at my display and then instantly sat.

"Get him the fuck out of here," Riley said, gesturing towards Mike.

"Newsflash, tough guy. You're not the boss in here," Mike said.

Before he could say anything more, maybe suggest that the boss was watching or something, I pointed at Logan and said, "That's right. _He's_ the boss, and what he says goes. So keep it up and we won't just put you in lock-up tonight, but we'll get your sorry ass transferred to Rikers."

"I think they'd like you there," Mike added with a grin. "Pretty boy like you who likes to talk dirty…you'll be the belle of the ball."

Riley remained quiet, which was an improvement from his previous belligerent attitude, so now we were able to get back down to business because like I said…the clock's ticking.

"You posted that how-to in a forum, one you linked in a blog, and you offered a million dollars to someone else to do the same thing, to commit murder. What was the criteria?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Do I look like I have a million dollars to spare?"

"So you don't have an account in Bermuda."

"With a million dollars in it?"

"With ten dollars in it."

He faltered slightly, but then he shook his head.

"No way, man."

"Okay, so let's talk about the forum post. It went up the day _after_ Brianna was murdered."

"Man, I didn't even know she was murdered."

"That's right. Because she went to Florida. To visit her mom?"

"That's what she told me."

"Her mom lives in Iowa."

"How…well…maybe she was meeting her in Florida or something. Hell, maybe she was meeting another _guy_. Yeah, that's probably it. She was stepping out on me, and the other dude ended up killing her."

"And then you wrote about it. Fairly accurately, I might add."

"I'm telling you…look up my shit, man. I just make this stuff up, and try to instigate discussions. You know, open the door so that people talk about what they'd do and how they'd do it…it's for a book."

"A book."

"It's a compilation of my blogs and the forums, and it's all about murder, because that's what people like, right? They want to read the most gruesome stuff so that then they can thank their lucky stars that it wasn't _them_ who got axed or strangled or mutilated…you know what I'm saying?"

Sadly, I _do_ know what he's saying, and the fact that some of his attitude is gone, and that the F-word was nowhere to be found in his last half-dozen sentences has me more than a little worried.

Are we wrong?

Is he really just an innocent bystander?

Weird, definitely, but could he seriously be innocent?

I cast Logan a glance and saw that he was staring hard at Riley, and I have no doubt that the same uncertainties were rolling through his mind.

Did we really tell Alex to risk everything on this guy?

A tap on the glass had me fighting the feeling of nausea.

Because it wasn't just me and Logan.

Alex was feeling the change in the atmosphere, too.

"Don't go anywhere, Riley," I said as I headed for the door. "We're not anywhere near done."

As soon as we were out in the hall with the door closed behind us, Mike said, "I don't think we're that far from being done. His explanation makes sense, and what the hell happened to his attitude? It's like he turned it off with a switch."

I opened the door to the observation room and was surprised to find it filled with people. In addition to Alex, Liz and Stanley were there, along with Yuille and Wyatt.

Great.

Not only were we going to ruin her press conference, but we were doing it with an audience.

"Hang on," Alex said as she stepped towards the doorway. Logan and I paused, still in the hall, and she came out to join us. "It was getting crowded in there."

"And since you're going to chew us out, thanks for the discretion," Logan said.

"I'm not going to chew you out."

"Maybe you should," I said in frustration. I looked at my watch and then said, "You've got to be on camera in thirty minutes, and so far we don't have squat for you. When Holt sees that you postponed for nothing…"

"It's not nothing," she interrupted.

"We don't have concrete proof," Logan argued.

"But he did it," she said.

"Hell yeah, he did it," Mike fired back. Then he looked at me and said, "Right?"

"I would've bet money on it," I said. "But I also thought we'd break him by now. And he doesn't even have a lawyer in there with him. But we're guessing at evidence because Scott's not done yet. I'm sorry, Captain. I shouldn't have made promises that I can't keep."

"You didn't promise. In fact, you specifically told me it was a hunch. The decision was mine," she said firmly. "Now I know you don't believe in coincidences. There's no way he just happened to write about that murder the day after Brianna was killed."

"No," I agreed.

"So we just need to tie him to any one of the others. We need to let him know that we _know_. Once he sees it falling apart, he'll crumble."

"I don't know, Boss," Logan said. "He seems fragile, but he's holding up."

"Hey, the million dollars," I said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Brendan said that the access codes to the bank account would be text messaged to the winner, and the losers would get a message with information on the next go-round."

"Right. But we know there isn't any winner," Mike pointed out. "So he wouldn't have sent out any texts."

"But the contestants didn't know that," Alex said, holding my gaze as she nodded slowly, a half-smile forming on her face.

"Exactly. So they would've had to submit their cell numbers somehow."

"But there wasn't any documentation other than the photo upload," Logan said.

And then it hit me, and I felt a renewed surge of adrenaline.

"Hang on," I said as I took off down the hall, towards the conference room.

Of course, they didn't hang on. They both followed me until we were all standing around the table while I pulled out the data list of the contents of the Automator file.

"It's enough," I mumbled as I rifled through another folder and pulled out the sheet that listed Justin Delaney's cell number. "It's enough…come on…"

"What is it?" Alex asked.

"It's in the name of the jpeg," I stated.

"The cell?" she questioned, instantly on the same page with me.

"Random letters separate the ten digits of the cell number. I can't believe I didn't catch this before, because Delaney's number is in here four times."

"Separated by different, arbitrary letters," Mike reminded me, and I could hear the excitement building in him, too.

I enthusiastically reached in the box of evidence we'd removed from Riley's apartment until I found the bag containing his cell phone.

"The contest ended yesterday," I said as I powered on the phone. "He would've had to text the contestants to tell them they didn't win. Otherwise they might get suspicious. I'm betting he wouldn't risk having access to Automator, not when he had to know there was a possibility of others getting caught. If the site was shut down by the police, he'd still need the numbers."

"Uh huh. And even if we did find the site, he wouldn't be worried about us catching onto the title of the jpeg because we're too stupid," Mike added.

"Well, he was wrong about that one," Alex commented.

"Write down the other numbers associated with the pictures," I once the phone was on and I clicked on the text messaging icon. The area was blank, which was not unexpected, so then I quickly went to the contacts. "If we can find even one of them in here…"

But I didn't find one.

I found seven.

"Thirteen girls," Alex began. "We know Delaney killed four of them."

"Right, so those four count as one number, which means we should have ten numbers."

"Except two of them weren't uploaded," Mike said. "Janie Barbour, who killed her attacker before he could do it, and Melissa Nolan, whose killer got a case of conscience long enough for us to show up and arrest him."

"So that gets us down to eight. And we only have seven.

"And we know that what means," I said as I pulled out my own phone and dialed the number in the header of Brianna's photo.

I got an automated message, stating that the number was no longer in service.

Because of course, Riley wouldn't have needed his own information.

He would've only needed it to look the same as the others.

"Uh huh," Logan said with a nod. "It means we got him. I could kiss you right now, Bobby, but maybe I should leave that to the professional. You want me to leave the room?"

"No need," Alex said quickly. "But later…"

"Duly noted," I replied with a grin.

Because man, did this just change everything.

Now we were taking him down.

And Alex could go on the news and announce to the city that her detectives had brought in the dreaded FBK after only eleven days on the case, not only catching the twisted man responsible, but also thwarting a second wave of murders once it was time for the contest to start up again.

"Well, don't just stand there," Alex said, smiling at me as she tipped her head towards the door. "Go in for the kill."

**TBC...**


	46. Chapter 46

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>It was music to my ears.<p>

"_**It was an accident**_," Riley said.

"_**When you killed her,**_" Mike clarified.

"_**Right."**_

"_**But then you rolled out the red carpet for twelve more girls to get killed just so that you wouldn't get caught."**_

Riley nodded and kept his gaze on the table.

"_**And yet here you are, so I guess that theory didn't work out so well, did it?"**_

"_**You're going to be all smug about it? Because my money says you didn't have shit to do with it, you fucking moron," **_Riley fired back, finally looking up to glare at Mike.

"_**You don't have any money, Riley. So why don't you just write down exactly what you did while I go take my magnifying glass to the bathroom so I can take a leak."**_

I bit back a smile and glanced sideways at Liz, but she was just shaking her head, trying not to laugh.

The whole atmosphere in the room had changed from the moment Bobby and Mike went back into the room after finding the cell numbers.

I practically expected someone to open a bottle of champagne at any moment.

"Go call Theresa," Stanley encouraged.

"Why?"

"Tell her she'll want to go live with this one."

"Live won't be until five," I pointed out. "We'll have to postpone again."

"You can be fashionably late and then b.s. your way through until five before you start talking about the FBK. They're used to you avoiding that topic anyway."

"And if you do that," Yuille spoke up. "Wyatt and I can run down those other cell numbers and have the remaining killers picked up by the local precincts."

"You're right," I agreed. "Go. Get busy, and keep me in the loop."

The two of them left in a hurry, and only a second later, Stanley headed for the door saying, "I'll help them, too."

"Don't mind me," Liz said. "Make your call. I know how to entertain myself."

I glanced at Bobby and Mike one more time, watching as they hovered over Riley while he wrote out his confession based on the suggestion that doing so might help him to get out of prison before he died of old age, and then I left the observation room.

Once in my office, I pulled out Theresa's business card that Stanley had given me on Monday night, and I placed the call.

"It's Captain Eames," I said when she answered.

There was silence on the other end and I could only imagine what might be going through her mind.

"Are we on or off the record?" she asked at last.

"Off."

"Okay."

"I'm just calling to suggest that maybe you go live with the press conference."

"Live? At 4:30?"

"I may be slightly late. And I have a lot to talk about today, so it'll be five before I get around to certain, interesting topics."

"You want me to get my station manager to lead the five o'clock news with your press conference."

It wasn't a question.

It was a declaration, stated with barely contained excitement.

"Yes."

"How many more phone calls do you have to make?"

"None."

Silence again.

Then, "Why?"

"Why did I call you?"

"Yes."

"You have to ask?"

"You think you owe me for yesterday?"

"And Tuesday."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Then I'm going to have to ask you. Why?"

"Believe it or not, I'm interested in the carriage of justice. At first I thought you were just a puppet, doing the mayor's bidding, but you're not. You're real and you're honest, and I can't stand idly by while you get the shaft because some pompous has-been wants his job back."

Now it was my turn for silence.

Then, "And?"

"There has to be an _and_?"

"No, but I think there is."

She chuckled lightly and said, "And that's exactly my point. You're not window dressing, Captain. You're a detective."

"Yes, I am."

"So maybe Monday, when we talk about your man, I'll fill you in on the _and_."

So she had motive.

I figured she did and I'm not disenfranchised by the idea.

Most people usually do, but she hadn't used it as leverage to get me to talk, or as bribery for going easy on me.

For some reason, something about me had struck a chord with her, and I'm fine with that.

It won't hurt me to have a friend in the press corps.

"Okay," I agreed. "So you're going live?"

"You bet your ass."

I hung up with Theresa and couldn't stop the smile.

_This is it._

Ross is going down today.

Or technically tomorrow, but after this press conference there won't be any doubt in anyone's mind.

Although how sad is it that he's become the enemy?

But he definitely is.

Liz told me earlier that Ross had stopped by the morgue.

Again.

This time sporting a shiny new badge and bearing gifts.

"_A badge means nothing,"_ she'd said when I groaned about him having it. "_I mean…not nothing. But it doesn't mean Major Case."_

"_I know. What was the gift?"_

"_I don't know. Sarah's mailing it back to him."_

"_You didn't even look?"_

"_Nope."_

"_And you're really on vacation? You know, all the years I've known you and I don't remember you ever taking one before."_

She laughed and said, "_Me neither. But I'm glad I did. With that confession, Mike might actually get off of work at a decent time tomorrow."_

"_Noon," _I said firmly. "_I promise. By then either his resignation will be in effect or..."_

"_That's not going to happen,"_ she interrupted.

"_Then he'll be on vacation."_

"_It pays to know the boss."_

"_It's not favoritism. He worked Saturday and Sunday last weekend. The least I can do is spring him a few hours early tomorrow."_

_I'd spring Bobby, too_, I thought as I sat down behind my desk.

I had a few more minutes, and I was alone in my office, so I pulled out my ring and slipped it onto my finger.

It felt foreign and yet comfortable all at once.

I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from it.

I can't describe how it makes me feel, knowing that Bobby took the time to shop, with my taste in mind, on the sly…and I don't even want to think about what it cost.

"Captain, I…" Stanley said as he burst into my office.

I quickly moved my hands down to my lap, beneath the surface of my desk, but my startled reaction gave him pause.

"I'm sorry. I should've knocked," he said as he looked at me inquisitively.

"It's fine. What can I do for you?"

"It's just that I…I assumed you were on your way out, and…"

"It's fine," I said again.

"You sure?"

"Captain…"

"Stanley," he corrected as he closed the door.

"Okay. What's up?"

"A couple of things. We've matched the cell numbers to the three missing killers. Uniforms are going to pick up the offenders, and they're all being brought here."

"I can't believe how quickly this thing unraveled," I said, smiling and shaking my head. "I knew they'd do it, but still…"

"I know," he agreed with a grin. "And maintenance texted me a minute ago. Your sprinkler system is fixed. I know the press gave you a hard time about that yesterday, so I figured, you know…one more piece of good news."

"That's _really_ good news," I agreed. "Because I forgot to re-up my stash of extra clothes."

"Rookie mistake, Captain," he joked. "Just like over-reacting when you're caught doing something you shouldn't be doing."

"What do you mean?" I asked innocently.

"I mean what are you hiding behind your desk?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I retorted.

I knew he wouldn't push the issue, although I have to admit that it's very tempting just to tell him.

"Yes, I would," he answered. Then he said, "But seriously. What if I'd been Zaring?"

"He's not sharp enough to catch that I was trying to hide something."

"True," he laughed. "Okay. Moran."

"Point taken," I conceded. "I'll be more careful."

"Careful with what is what I'd like to know."

"You're already keeping secrets for me, Captain," I said as I got up from my desk. The ring was now safely back in my pocket.

"Then what's one more?"

"Pete's. Tonight," I countered as I looked at my watch. "But first let me go put this puppy to bed."

And that's exactly what I did.

It was my best press conference to date, and Theresa had it live: the confession of the original FBK, Riley James Smith, was in our possession, and the Jane Does were on their way to being identified since the cell numbers had allowed us to pick up their killers, and the pipes were fixed…

It went perfectly.

And afterwards, after taking calls from Moran and Zaring who both praised me for my diligence, I got into the SUV and drove to the corner.

Bobby got in and was on me immediately.

"We did it," he murmured as he thrust his hands in my hair and covered my mouth with his.

"You and Mike did it," I countered gently when he moved his lips around to my ear.

"We _all_ did it," he said firmly and then he ran one hand over the front of my blouse before undoing a button and moving beneath the silk, caressing my skin in a way that instantly set me on fire.

With his other hand, he reached for my left hand.

"And where's you ring, Mrs. Goren?"

"In my pocket. And I thought you were going to be Mr. Eames," I teased.

"I'll be anything you want as long as I'm yours," he replied, his voice barely a whisper as his breath brushed across my ear, causing a shiver to run through me.

With his one hand still beneath my blouse and his lips on my ear, he used his other hand to reach into my pocket.

And he didn't take a direct route to get there.

But eventually, he found what he was looking for, and he pulled the ring out.

He stopped his assault on my ear and throat and looked down at the diamond for a moment, and then he brought his lips to mine as he put the ring back on my finger.

Then he slowly withdrew his hand, the one that was under my shirt, and he deftly redid the button while he continued to kiss me with single-minded passion.

The day itself had been rewarding, but capping it off with Bobby just made it down-right intoxicating.

I pulled him closer to me, and he came willingly, mindless of the console that was surely digging into his hip. I slid one hand around to the back of his head, intensifying the kiss, while at the same time, my other hand wandered to the vicinity of his upper thigh.

I felt him tense in anticipation, considering how close my hand was to where he surely wanted it to be, and so then I slowly and purposefully ran my hand over the length of him.

He was fully hard, and while it wasn't completely unexpected, the knowledge still served to send a wave of arousal through me that was nearly impossible to corral.

The intensity between us increased as I moved my hand over him again and again until he grabbed onto my wrist to stop the motion.

But even then he kept kissing me until at last he pulled back and smiled at me and let out a shaky breath before saying, "So…Pete's, right?"

"I don't think so," I answered as my gaze darted between his dark eyes and his delectable lips. "I think we need to go home first."

"Maybe we can borrow Liz's place for a few minutes," he suggested with a mischievous smile.

"A few minutes?" I questioned, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Hours. Days."

I laughed and grabbed onto his tie, bringing him back to me for another crushing kiss.

"Or we could just do it right here in the car," he posed in a husky voice.

Talk about temptation.

Especially since as he said the words, he moved his hand from my cheek down to my shoulder and then he trailed his fingers up and down my arm, letting his thumb graze along the edge of my breast in a teasing manner.

"Pete's first," I said as I gathered my resolve. "Then you can take me home and have your way with me."

TBC...


	47. Chapter 47

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>It started out to be a good day.<p>

I loitered near 1PP to catch Eames' press conference only to find out that it had been postponed.

_That's good_, I thought. _Sign your own transfer papers._

Because if there's one thing I know about Holt, it's that he can't stand to reschedule anything, ever.

So I couldn't resist gloating about that a little when I swung by his office to let him know that I'd finished jumping through the hoops and I was now officially back with the department.

"_What happened to the press conference this morning_?" I asked him after I showed him my badge.

"_She postponed it until this afternoon."_

"_Why?"_ I asked smugly.

"_Why don't you ask her?"_ he replied gruffly.

"_I don't think she's taking my calls right now."_

"_Can you blame her?_" he retorted, finally looking up from his desk. "_You know, there's such a thing as finesse, Ross."_

And that's when my day started its decline.

"_Finesse?"_ I repeated, surprised by his attitude towards me.

"_Yeah, it means having skill at handling a difficult or sensitive situation."_

"_I know what the word means."_

"_Really?"_

"_Yes, sir," _I bit out, finding his condescension annoying_._

"_You know, I think you've forgotten one important thing during this whole exercise."_

"_What's that?"_

"_Possession is nine-tenths of the law. And guess who's living in that office right now."_

"_What are you saying?"_

"_I'm saying you might want to hold off counting those chickens. The way I understand it, Captain Eames has a way of coming through in a pinch."_

"_Sir, I was under the impression that the job was mine,"_ I said, doing my best not to sound whiny.

"_It was yours. Until 2010. Then you had to get involved in that reckless Bureau debacle. She went in and cleaned up your mess and now the job is hers. And she's not too keen on taking over the media job, like I'd hoped, so I'm not sure I'm willing to risk losing her altogether. Hell, I'd be risking losing nearly three dozen exemplary employees. All for what? For you?"_

"_I can guarantee you that I'll fill those spots and have that department running like a finely-tuned machine within six months."_

"_Sure. Maybe. But why would I want to wait six months when it's already doing that now, under Captain Eames?"_

"_She'll cave under the pressure," _I posed. _"She's not cut out for the daily stress brought on from heading up such a department."_

"_Don't lie, Ross. It doesn't suit you. And quit trying to get an answer out of me, because I'll give it to you in the morning, in the meeting with Maas and Moran and Eames. Until then, you better hope like hell she blows this afternoon press conference. That's probably the only chance you've got."_

I left his office feeling slightly panicked and, for the first time, like maybe things weren't going to go my way.

Even after Monday, after that juvenile resignation stunt, Holt wasn't ready to say no to me. Because he obviously can't trust her, what with the Italians and the suggestion of sexual impropriety.

It was killing me not to know what Eames had up her sleeve for this afternoon, so I decided to make a stop by the morgue.

Liz had mentioned the fact that they're friends now, so she would probably know what was going on.

And of course, I wanted to give Liz a present.

I didn't want her to think that I could ever forget her birthday.

And yeah, so I'd taken her for granted when we dated before, but I was past that now, and she should be, too.

So I figured that a trip to the morgue would could kill two birds with one stone.

I'd get the lowdown on Eames and I'd romance Liz a little, get her to quit thinking about Logan.

But I didn't anticipate the open hostility.

"_Plans for what?" _I asked, having overheard her talking as I entered the autopsy suite.

"_Plans with her boyfriend, Detective Logan_," one of Liz's assistants fired at me in a snotty tone.

Logan.

I just can't fathom the draw.

"_That's going to be difficult, since he's in the middle of botching a big case right now_," I pointed out, trying not to sound too superior, and yet feeling it all the same because there's just no way in hell that FBK case is going to get solved today.

Between him and Goren it was a miracle they made any progress on _anything_ because neither of them know how to tread lightly when the situation warrants.

Goren always had Eames to make him look good and Logan couldn't even hang on to a good partner, so instead he just floundered throughout his entire career, bouncing from one political nightmare to the next.

And at least Goren has a little intelligence on his side.

Logan doesn't even have that.

Another of Liz's assistants tried to play the heavy and get me to leave, but I flashed him my new badge and that shut him up.

And even though Liz sent her minions on their way, things still didn't go like I hoped.

It was almost like she's been brainwashed by Goren and Eames.

And Logan.

"_I didn't come here to fight about it, Liz," _I said after several minutes of bickering.

And I have to admit, she's stunning when she gets angry.

Just seeing her standing there, in her royal blue scrubs that match her eyes…it made me want to see her _out_ of those scrubs.

I could kick myself now for never having advanced our relationship before, when she was willing, but maybe I could get her to be willing again.

"_Then why'd you come?" _she asked in that skeptical tone of hers.

"_It's your birthday," _I told her as I pulled the box from my pocket. "_I bought you something_."

And that was mostly true.

I hadn't actually bought it for Liz.

I'd bought it for this woman I was seeing in Wisconsin, but before I had the chance to give it to her, the word had come through that I'd be able to return to the city, so I'd decided then that I'd save it and give it to Liz.

It was more her style anyway.

And since yesterday I'd remembered that today was her birthday…it was like fate.

"_It's not my birthday."_

Okay, so maybe it wasn't fate.

But today's the tenth, right?

"_Yes it is_," I insisted, and then I realized how ridiculous I sounded, arguing with a woman about her own birthday. "_Isn't it?"_

"_Tomorrow._"

Did that mean that today's the ninth?

Or that her birthday isn't until the eleventh?

I wanted to check my watch, but I held off and instead tried to play off the mistake, but she refused the gift.

And then all of a sudden we were in another verbal sparring match and the more I tried to tell her she was wrong about Logan, the madder she got.

"_Even if Mike were to walk through that door right now and dump me flat on my ass,_" she railed. "_I still wouldn't want to be with you. Is that clear enough for you?"_

Is it possible that I was so wrong about her?

Had she willingly sampled the Kool-Aid?

"_Okay,_" I conceded. "_I'm sorry to take up your time. I'll be seeing you around though. As captain of Major Case, you know I'll be making trips to the morgue. I'll do my best not to make it awkward for you_."

Because I _am_ going to get that job.

Honestly, it's all I have left.

My boys don't care that I'm back. They have their own lives, and yeah they were glad to see that I wasn't dead, but they have no real interest in spending time with me.

Nancy had married her long-time boyfriend, and what did she have to say about my return?

_"That's great, Danny. Did you fake your death so I'd get married and free you up from making alimony payments? I can probably still collect from the time you supposedly died until the time I tied the knot, right? That's about five months, so why don't you just give me five grand and we'll call it even_."

And now Liz.

And yeah, I know she rebuffed me last week.

But I'd written that off as her being in shock about my return.

And Sunday, too, when I went to her house.

As dismayed as I was to find Logan there, I wasn't going to begrudge her a last fling with her boy-toy.

Because that's all it could ever be between her and Logan.

As much as I hated to even think about it, it _had_ to just be sex.

She's much too smart and classy for him and she knows that.

Or at least I thought she did.

But today she made it perfectly clear that with or without him, she still doesn't want me.

It didn't hit me until I was back out on the street that I hadn't pumped her for information on the case, and I couldn't decide which I was more upset about.

The smack down from Liz, or the lack of details about what Eames' next move was going to be.

My curiosity was through the roof, so I killed some time during the afternoon, waiting out the four-thirty press conference.

_That_ turned into a four forty-five press conference, and when Eames came out, she looked…self-assured.

Actually, she appeared downright radiant.

And she had the reporters eating out of the palm of her hand.

When did she get so savvy?

And why wasn't Herb calling her out on…_some_thing?

He was an old friend, and he'd said that he would expose her for the inexperienced captain that she is.

But he didn't.

And maybe he meant to, I don't know.

Or maybe it was just me getting what I deserve for trying to skew things in my favor.

Because Herb went in for the kill and ended up killing me instead.

"Captain, don't you think it's past time for this FBK to be caught? We're coming up on two weeks and you've still got nothing."

"I've been saying no comment to the FBK questions because my detectives suggested that if the killer was apprised of our progress, then he might go into hiding."

"Which apparently he's done," Herb pointed out cockily, and I couldn't help but grin.

"Actually, he's not hiding," she replied with a smug smile. "Or maybe he is, but _if _he is, he's hiding under a bunk in the holding cell upstairs."

The flurry was immediate.

"Are you saying an arrest has been made?"

"You've caught the FBK?"

"Can you give us a name?"

"If you'll give me the chance, I'll tell you what you want to know," she stated firmly, and silence instantly fell over the crowd. "An arrest was made and upon further questioning, a full confession was obtained from Riley James Smith of Maywood, New Jersey. He is responsible for the first murder and for inciting the twelve additional killings."

"So he only killed one girl?"

"That's correct, yes. But in an effort to hide his crime, he began a contest, inviting other individuals to kill in the same manner."

"What about these other killers? Are there any leads?"

"All of them are in custody," she announced with barely masked pride.

And there was her rabbit.

I had to walk away at that point because she'd just sealed my fate.

She'd keep Major Case.

And I'd be a joke.

How could I ever earn any respect in another department now that I've been usurped by a subordinate?

I walked four blocks down the street to a pub I used to frequent, and I went inside with the intent of drinking my sorrows away.

_Is it too late to go back to Kenosha_, I wondered as I waited for the bartender to bring me a double shot of Dewar's.

Because Eric Bannister had been a likeable guy.

Much more so, apparently, than Danny Ross.

So could I go back to being Eric again?

"Hi," the woman next to me said. "I'm Suzie."

"Danny," I replied as I shook her offered hand.

"It's early for a double," she said, nodding at the drink that the bartender placed in front of me. "Bad day?"

"Bad year."

"You want to talk about it?"

I turned and faced her fully, taking in her features.

Blue eyes, but faded…not bright and intelligent like Liz's.

Red hair.

Like Liz's used to be.

She's blonde now, but if she ever came around, I'd get her to change it back.

Logan probably likes it blonde.

He's cheap like that.

The thought of Logan soured my mood even more.

"Or not," Suzie said sharply as she started to turn away from me.

I'd obviously offended her with my frank perusal and lack of response.

"I'm sorry. It's not you," I said lamely as I tossed back the scotch. "It's me."

She rolled her eyes dramatically and made a point of turning on the stool, putting her back to me.

Great.

Even strangers don't want me around.

I decided to carry my pity party home, so I paid my tab and headed for the door, but just as I got ready to push it open, a figure came into view, and then paused at the corner just outside of the door.

It was Goren.

I hesitated, staying inside as he stood outside with his back to the pub.

Now I don't claim to know him well.

And honestly, I don't want to.

As far as I'm concerned, the man's a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic.

But for some reason, the fact that he was loitering on the corner piqued my interest.

Maybe it's because Liz mentioned him today, the idea that she'd pick him over me.

Or maybe it's because he's friends with Logan.

I'm not sure, but whatever my motivation, I stepped sideways and then slid into the booth next to the window, and I suddenly had a gut feeling that maybe my day was taking a turn for the better.

Goren was still just standing at the edge of the street. I watched him as he looked first one way and then the other. I thought maybe he was going to cross the road, but he didn't.

Like I said, he's weird like that.

I was just about ready to give up trying to figure out what the hell he was doing when an SUV pulled up.

And not just any SUV, but an NYPD vehicle.

Why would he have walked away from 1PP, only to be picked up by another employee?

I didn't have a chance to ponder that question any further because at that moment, Goren opened the passenger side door and the interior light came on, illuminating the driver.

_Oh my God._

I'd like to be able to say _I knew it_, but I didn't know.

But I do know one thing.

As of now, I'm right back in the game.

TBC...


	48. Chapter 48

**Bobby POV**

* * *

><p>It took Alex ten minutes to drive us from the corner to Pete's, and I needed every last one of those minutes to calm my libido.<p>

Because the woman is like liquid fire.

I was feeling it when I saw her drive up.

I mean, I was feeling the excitement and the rush of love and the adrenaline from the culmination of the day, and so when I first got in, I couldn't help myself.

I didn't care that we were four blocks from 1PP.

I mean, it was almost dark already and we were in a car with mostly-tinted windows, so who was going to see us?

Well, if someone did then they got an eyeful because I couldn't resist feeling beneath her shirt, running my fingers over that smooth skin while I ran my tongue along the edge of her ear.

It took all of my restraint not to pull her over the console onto my lap so that I could feel that glorious pressure of having her body against mine.

And then she had to touch me.

Not inadvertently.

Not lightly.

Because that wouldn't be Alex.

No, in true Alex fashion, her touch was deliberate and firm and tantalizingly perfect.

I didn't want her to stop, but we were still fully dressed in the department SUV, for the love of God, so I finally forced myself to grab hold of her wrist.

The absence of her touch bought me some time, so I continued kissing her until I thought that maybe I _might_ be able to make it through a couple of hours at Pete's before taking her home and ravaging her.

"_So…Pete's, right_?" I'd asked her when I pulled away.

"_I don't think so. I think we need to go home first."_

And the idea was so tempting that I was nearly ready to ditch our friends.

We could throw the cherry on top and be home in half an hour, and a minute after that, I'd have her naked beneath me.

Or on top of me.

Or bent over in front of me…

The visual was so stimulating that it's a miracle I didn't blow my top, just sitting there teasing with her about going to Liz's house, since it was closer.

But I couldn't deny her this celebratory night.

She deserved to do her victory lap with our friends because tomorrow would most certainly bring about the solidification of Alex's position in Major Case.

Holt would be committing career suicide if he chose Ross now.

Alex laughed at our banter and then pulled me over for another kiss, and I couldn't resist making one last suggestion, even though I knew we wouldn't do it.

But I wanted to push her a little, and make her just as hot and bothered as me.

"_Or we could just do it right here in the car."_

For a second, I thought she might say yes.

But I'm okay with the fact that she didn't.

Because I could see how much my touch was affecting her, how much she wants me.

"_Pete's first_," she finally said. "_Then you can take me home and have your way with me." _

"_Oh, I plan to have my way with you," _I told her as she turned to put the car in gear.

"_Anything in particular in mind?" _she asked with a smile.

"_Yes. But I'd better not talk about it now, or I won't be able to walk into Pete's without holding something in front of me."_

Her eyes shifted from the road to the general vicinity to which I was referring, and then she took pity on me and changed the subject.

"_So what did you think of the press conference?"_

We chatted about that for the duration of the drive, and by the time she parked down the block from the bar, I had things down to a manageable size.

"Stanley caught me in my office, wearing the ring," she said before we got out of the car.

"He saw it? What did he say?"

"No, he didn't actually see it, but I scrambled to hide it, and he knew something was up. I put him off until tonight."

"So he's going to ask you," I said with a nod. "And you're going to say…"

"I think we tell him. He already knows we're together. How much worse will it make it, the fact that we're getting married?"

"How much _worse_?" I asked as I leaned across the console. I kissed her and then ran my hand over her hair, smoothing down some of the stray strands that I'd created earlier. "It makes it so much _better_."

She smiled at me, that beautiful smile of hers, and said, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah. Um…it means we can't say it only just happened, whenever we might get caught. It'll obviously show that we've been together for a while, and even if Moran signs the regs, the fact that we're engaged will mean we were together beforehand."

"So we'll still be putting Stanley in the difficult position of keeping a secret for us."

"Right."

"So…"

"So we just tell him that. We can be honest, and he'll have another secret, or…he can forget about it and have plausible deniability."

She took the ring off of her finger again and put it into her pocket.

It doesn't seem fair that we can't just enjoy our engagement like normal people, but I'm not going to complain.

Not much, anyway.

Not today.

We've got too much to celebrate.

The others were already at our table, and there were drinks sitting at the two empty places.

"I trust you got your hellos out of the way, since you came in together," Stanley said wryly.

"You've got a problem with public displays?" Alex asked teasingly as she sat down.

"No problem at all," he said with a wry grin. "And after a day like today…I'm kind of surprised you two even showed up here. I figured you'd be at home celebrating."

"Soon," I said as I picked up my drink. "Very soon."

"You nailed that press conference, Alex," Liz said.

"Thanks to Mike and Bobby," she deflected. "So let's drink to them."

"And then we'll drink to the longevity of the captain of Major Case," Stanley added.

We ended up drinking to a whole lot more than that, and after about an hour, someone made the brilliant suggestion that we should order food before we all got completely sloshed.

Because wouldn't that be something…Alex showing up hung over for her do-or-die meeting with Holt.

So we slowed down the alcohol and started on the food.

"This'll be it for us until Sunday night," Mike said once the plates were cleared. "As soon as I can get out of there tomorrow, Liz and I are headed upstate."

"I'm promising noon," Alex told him. Then she smiled and said, "Or sooner if we're out of work."

"If we're out of work, we'll all take a trip upstate," Stanley joked.

"Yeah, I like that idea," I said.

Mike rolled his eyes at me and said, "You're not staying with us. I found us a cabin on the lake…with a hot tub and a fireplace…and only _one_ bed."

"That's okay. We don't need a bed," Alex teased. "Right, Bobby?"

"Uh uh," Mike argued. "I know how bad you guys are. How many weekends did you spend in my spare bedroom?"

I smiled and shrugged, enjoying listening to him and Alex banter back and forth.

"Too many," he continued good-naturedly. "I wore out my damn IPod trying to drown you two out. I mean, come on, Alex. How many times do you have to call to God? He's not the one doing all the work."

Liz and Alex both started laughing while Mike tried to look indignant, but it didn't work. He started laughing, too, and then he said, "And yeah, okay, you were giving Bobby his props, too, but my point is, we're not sharing a cabin with you."

"Okay, I think we're wading into the territory of too much information," Stanley said. "It might be time for more drinks."

"I'll help you," I offered. I leaned over and kissed Alex on the cheek and then left them to their rapidly declining conversation while I followed Stanley to the bar.

"Have you talked to Moran?" I asked him once we'd place our order. "Are we as set as we think?"

"It's not in stone, but it may as well be. Holt's keeping his cards close to the vest, but he's not stupid. And Alex telling him flat-out that she won't take that media job no matter what…he'd be a fool to go through with the transfer, and he might be annoying but he's not a fool."

"What'll they do with Ross? I hear he got his badge back."

"Yeah. Denise held it up for as long as she could, but Ross has been a fixture in Holt's office this week, so she finally had to send it through."

"And she's the one who took Alex's file to Zaring's office."

"Um…yeah."

"On your request?"

"Is that what Alex thinks?"

"No. She told me what you said."

"I may have mentioned to Denise that it would be helpful to get Zaring behind us."

"And you mentioned it with Alex's file in your hand?"

"Denise told me she'd been fielding calls from Theresa for a couple of weeks, keeping them from being transferred to Zaring's office. It was dumb luck that another one came in Tuesday morning, only thirty minutes or so after Denise had delivered Alex's file, mixed in with some other documents."

"Denise…you…Theresa…this whole thing is like a coup," I said, although I wasn't upset by that. In fact, I was about to burst with pride in Alex for unwittingly instigating such a following.

"Not a coup. It's a stand," he corrected. "And maybe she had some help, but only in the sense of making people see what's already there. You know what I'm saying?"

"I do, yes."

He held my gaze, nodding at me meaningfully, and then the bartender came with our drinks and the moment was over.

"If they're still talking about your sex life, I'm going to have to call it a night," he quipped as we went back to the table.

"It depends on whether or not they were going to analyze each time," I fired back. "Because if that's the case, we're going to be here for at least a week."

He looked at me, apparently surprised by my joke, and then he laughed and shook his head.

"I don't know how I didn't know about you two. I mean, before. I went back and forth so much I made myself dizzy, and the whole time you two were in each other's hip pocket."

"How long do you think we've been together?"

"I don't know," he admitted, his steps faltering for a moment a few feet from the table as he stared first at Alex and then looked back at me questioningly.

"Since last summer."

"That's all?"

"I mean, that's all we've been _together_ together, yeah."

"Huh," he commented and then he continued on to the table. He passed out the drinks and then sat down and looked curiously at Alex.

"So…Alex. What were you doing in your office this afternoon?"

She glanced at me briefly as I slid into the booth next to her, and then she replied in exactly the manner we discussed.

"I'll tell you if you really want to know, but it'll mean additional culpability for you."

"How come you didn't ask me if I mind being culpable?" Mike joked.

"You're not my boss," Alex reminded him after rolling her eyes.

"And I'm not either when we're off the clock," Stanley said. "Hey, in for a penny, in for a pound. Lay it on me."

Alex kept her hands in her lap while she put on the ring and then she set her hand on the table, close enough for his inspection.

"Holy crap, are you kidding me?"

"You're surprised?"

"I'm…yeah. I mean, I guess with everything else going on, I figured…I don't know. You'd be focused on _that_. But I guess it shouldn't surprise me that you've been able to do both," he remarked, still stunned. And then he added, "When the hell did this happen?"

"Just Tuesday night. Well, a few days before that, but formally Tuesday night."

"And don't worry," Alex said. "We're not going to do it right away. Well, unless the meeting doesn't go well. Then we might do it tomorrow."

Tomorrow.

It would almost be worth losing our jobs to think that we could go to bed tomorrow night as husband and wife.

But I'm a patient man.

Or at least, I can be.

"And even if Moran signs the regs, we'll wait a little while," I added. "We know we have to make it look…new."

"What if he doesn't sign?" Stanley posed.

Alex and I looked at each other for a long minute, but neither of us had an answer.

Because even though we'd said it didn't really matter, it does.

"He'll sign," Mike spoke up as he picked up his glass. "And in a couple of months, I'll throw one hell of a bachelor party."

He and Alex bickered jokingly for a few minutes about whether or not strippers would be allowed at the party, but I just sat back and listened.

It had been a good day for the home team, and I felt a tremendous sense of relief knowing that I'd done my part by helping to get a confession from Riley.

And in less than twelve hours, we'd have Holt's decision.

TBC...


	49. Chapter 49

**Logan POV**

* * *

><p>Stanley left around ten-thirty.<p>

I hated to see him go, because we were having a lot of fun. The mood was almost euphoric, probably because everyone was aware of the fact that after tomorrow, things could be irrevocably different.

But as much as I didn't want it to end, I could understand it.

It's not like we could hang out in Pete's forever.

"I've got a quick stop to make and then there's a bed that's calling my name," Stanley explained.

"Is that the bed calling your name? Or Traci?" I joked.

He grinned as he pulled a couple of twenties from his wallet and said, "I'm hoping it's both."

"Well, don't forget to set your alarm," Alex remarked. "I'll see you at eight."

"I'll be curious to meet this Traci person," Liz said after he was gone.

"I spoke with her on the phone," Alex said. "She seemed nice enough."

"I'd just hate to see him go from one bad situation to another."

"Well, not all men can be as lucky as me," I said as I settled my arm around Liz's shoulders.

"I am," Bobby stated as he got up from the table. "_And_ I've been a good boy for two hours longer than I planned to, so I think it's time for us to go home."

"So that you can be bad?" Alex asked hopefully as she stood next to him.

"Don't answer that," I said quickly. "Can't you two ever just say goodbye? Do you really have to leave us with an image of what you're getting ready to do?"

"I know how much you miss having us in your apartment," Alex replied with a smile.

"I haven't even missed having _me_ in my apartment," I commented as I waved them out. "Go. I'll see you both in the morning. Bobby, we're going to lurk in Stanley's office, right?"

"Of course," he answered, and then he took Alex's hand and led the way out of Pete's.

"She has to be nervous," Liz said once they were gone.

"You wouldn't know it to look at her. And really, things couldn't have gone better. If Holt still tries to make the move, then…"

"Then you three will find something somewhere else," she said confidently. "Together."

"You mean like with the feds?"

"That would be an option, I guess. Wouldn't it?"

"Maybe. You know, the last time I left the department, I was wide open to change. I figured a move would do me good."

"And now?"

"I don't want to leave the city. And I won't, not unless you'd consider coming with me."

She was quiet for a minute, and I thought maybe I'd pushed it too far.

It was that whole aversion-to-marriage thing, I guess, because I suppose that living together would essentially be the same type of commitment and even though we're mostly living together now, it's not really a stated fact.

I mean, I still have my apartment.

And I still go there randomly to get clean clothes and pick up my mail.

But I haven't slept in my bed in weeks.

But if we were to move out of town…_together_…that would definitely mean living together and it would rev up the level of commitment.

"I would," she said at last as she leaned her head against the back of the booth and turned to look at me. "But I'm not moving to some podunk town. It would have to be a city."

"You don't want to leave New York," I stated.

"No, I don't," she admitted. "But I'd rather be away from New York than be away from you."

"You would actually quit your job and sell your place…"

"I can be an ME anywhere," she said practically. "And I'm not nearly as attached to my place as I am to who's in it."

I stared at her for a moment, as she kept her eyes locked on mine, and I was flooded with a nearly overwhelming sense of longing and desire…not from touching her, but just from looking at her.

It's such a new experience for me to be stimulated by emotion rather than physical contact.

"Do we have to move to another city to live together?" I asked quietly. "I mean, I know we're kind of doing it already, but…"

"You should sell your place," she said immediately.

"I'm not trying to rush you."

"I know. But I love you, and I want us to live together…officially. And honestly, with all this talk about marriage lately, I've even been thinking about that."

"You don't want to be married."

"_You_ don't want to be married," she countered, and then she brought her hand up and settled her palm against my cheek.

"I didn't until you," I replied.

I grabbed onto her wrist and brought her hand around to my mouth, kissing her palm lingeringly. She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, and I let go of her hand, choosing instead to lean over and kiss her lips.

"Do you want another round?"

I pulled back from Liz and looked at the waitress in annoyance.

"We're fine," I told her.

"Then do you want the check?"

"Can you give us a few minutes?"

She rolled her eyes and walked away and Liz chuckled and said, "I think she wants us to leave."

"I don't care what she wants," I replied, going back in for another kiss. But I kept it brief and then I said, "We were in the middle of something here."

"Uh huh," she agreed, dropping her eyes to our joined hands. "We've only been together a little more than a month. What's going to happen when you get tired of me?"

"Five weeks and three days," I clarified, and then I smiled and added, "And I'm already tired of you. Do you have any idea how exhausting it can be, living with a near-constant erection?"

She burst out laughing as she once again returned her eyes to mine.

"You're incorrigible."

"Yes, I am," I agreed. "And I'm never going to get tired of you."

"People always say never and then real life comes along…"

"I think the life we've been living is about as real as it gets, don't you?"

"Are you trying to talk me into marrying you?"

"No. I'm just saying…if you don't want to because you don't believe in it, then fine. But if it's because you don't trust that I'll love you forever…"

"I'm…scared," she admitted. "I still have trouble understanding what you see in me, and I'm expecting you to wake up one day and wonder the same thing."

Personal insecurity.

I'm an old hand at that.

I've had the same fear myself over the past month.

"That won't happen," I promised. "Because I know exactly what I see in you."

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?" the waitress interrupted again.

"Yeah, sure. Bring us another round," I said quickly, without taking my eyes off of Liz.

"I guess this isn't really the place for a serious conversation, huh?" she said with a smile.

"I think we doing okay. And as long as we keep being honest with each other…"

"Danny came to see me today," she interrupted.

"At the morgue?"

"Uh huh. He showed off his new badge. And he brought me a birthday present. He thought it was today, I guess. And he wanted to argue with me about it."

"Thoughtful of him to think of you," I said cynically. "What was it?"

"I don't know. I didn't open it. In fact, I told him to keep it, but he left it on the table. Sarah's going to mail it back to him."

"I suppose he made another play for you."

"You could call it that. I'm sorry I didn't mention it sooner. We were just having fun, and I didn't want to bring it up."

"It's fine," I assured her.

"Really? Because last week you were ready to hand me over to him."

"Because I thought that might be better for you. Not because I wanted to. Just the idea was tearing me up, but I didn't want to hold you back."

"That's because you're just the sweetest man," she said with a smile. "Dumb, if you think I'd want to be with him, but still sweet."

"Dumb?" I asked, as a laugh rumbled out of me. "Thank you, Liz."

"You know what I'm saying. I don't want him, and…"

I cut off her indignant assertion by kissing her again, this time ignoring the waitress completely as she set down our glasses.

I wasn't going to worry about Ross.

I know Liz loves me.

And the idiot argued with her about the date of her birthday?

I know exactly when it is.

I'd like to think that I know nearly everything about her. And what I don't know, I'll find out, maybe even this weekend since we're going to have forty-eight hours of time, just the two of us.

I was halfway worked up by the time I broke off the kiss, but I wasn't quite ready to go yet, so we picked up our drinks and dove back into casual conversation.

It was after eleven-thirty when I finally cleared our tab. We left Pete's and started the walk home.

"So what do you think about my offer?"

"Which one is that?" I asked teasingly. "The one where I get to handcuff you to the bed or…"

"Mike," she interrupted, chuckling and shaking her head. Then she looked up at me with interest and said, "Wait, you want to use your cuffs on me?"

"Haven't you ever wanted to play out a cop fantasy?"

"I'm living my cop fantasy," she answered with a smile. And then, in a tone that sent me from playful to lust-filled in a matter of seconds, she added, "And you can use your cuffs on me any time."

"Then you need to start walking faster," I joked as I picked up the pace.

But I only walked quickly for a few steps and then I slowed down again, taking her hand in mind as we continued heading for her place.

"I'm sorry," I told her after another minute or two. "I got us off track. What offer?"

"Sell your place and move in with me."

"Really?" I asked. By this point, we were at the bottom of the stairs that lead up to her door, so I paused there for a moment and turned to look at her. "Are you sure? That's pretty permanent. I mean, you won't be able to just kick me out when I make you mad."

"Maybe Stanley will let you stay with him," she replied.

"Liz…" I began, because as much as I love her sarcastic nature, this is a big step for us, and I don't want her to take it lightly.

"I'm sure," she interrupted. "When you make me mad, then we'll fight about it. And after that, we'll make up. I don't expect everything to be perfect."

"Good, because I'm anything but."

"You're pretty close," she insisted, smiling as she turned to go up the stairs. "So…upstate?"

I had a feeling she'd come back around to that.

I hadn't told her where I was taking her this weekend, and honestly, I love the fact that she's willing to go without knowing the destination.

I nodded, and she continued, "And a cabin by the lake?"

"Yeah, but I didn't say _which_ lake."

"No, you didn't," Liz agreed with a smile.

"Does that sound okay? Or would you rather do a fancy hotel somewhere?"

"Uh uh. A cabin sounds perfect."

"Good. And you heard me mention the hot tub and fireplace, right?"

"I only need for it to have you. Everything else is just a bonus."

She cast me a another smile over her shoulder before shifting her focus to putting the key into the lock.

"It'll definitely have me," I promised, wrapping my arms around her from behind and starting a full assault on the side of her neck.

She gave up on trying to unlock the door and instead stood still while I pushed against her, keeping her between me and the door while I slid one hand just inside the waistband of her scrub pants.

She sighed and turned her head to the side, allowing me to cover her mouth with mine as my hand traveled further beneath the cotton fabric.

"We should go inside," she murmured between kisses.

"Why?"

She chuckled lightly and pushed back against me, pulling a moan from me at the increased contact.

"Because…what's the penalty for having sex in public?"

"It's just a fine," I deflected as my other hand slipped beneath her shirt, stroking over her warm skin as I anchored her to me.

"Oh, well…just a fine," she replied flippantly.

"And possibly probation."

"How about you just give me five more seconds to open the door, and then we don't have to worry about felony charges?"

"I love your practicality," I teased, finally relaxing my hold on her.

"Is that the draw?" she asked as she once again attempted to stick the key in the lock.

"No, but I can make you a list," I offered. Then I glanced down at my watch and said, "Or I could, but I'm not sure if we've got the time."

"Are we on a deadline?" she asked me, quirking her eyebrow in that wonderfully inquisitive way of hers. She closed and locked the door behind us and then turned around to face me.

"We are," I said with a smile. And then I pulled a wrapped box from my pocket and held it out in front of me. "It's midnight. Happy birthday."

TBC...


	50. Chapter 50

**Ross POV**

* * *

><p>I sat and watched the SUV as it sat idling along the curb.<p>

Unfortunately, once Goren closed the door, I couldn't see inside any more.

Or at least not well.

However, the streetlights managed to cast a little bit of backlight, allowing me to see enough to get the gist of what was going on.

And I have to say, it surprised me.

More than a little.

Although, in hindsight it actually makes sense.

Every look I saw pass between them during the five years they worked under me…

That's why she was so committed to protecting him when I was their boss.

That's why she could understand him, even when he spoke in nonsensical circles.

And that's why she went undercover with him last year.

She didn't do it as some grand, justice-seeking gesture.

She did it because she was sleeping with _him_.

And then it occurred to me that she's probably the one who fed the reporters Logan's name.

She sent them running down the wrong trail just to throw suspicion off of Goren.

And it had worked brilliantly. Not once have I heard his name in connection with hers.

I was going to have to consider the possibility that she's smarter than I thought.

Well, smart _and_ stupid.

Because I can't fathom what she sees in Goren in the first place, and risking her career to sleep with him is just downright senseless.

But she's smart in the sense that she'd found a way to cover it up.

Until now, anyway.

While I sat and pondered my next course of action, apparently the two lovebirds in the SUV decided to take their show on the road.

I wished desperately that I'd been in my car when I saw them so that I could follow them.

Because Moran would never believe my word.

Especially after I'd accused Eames of not only sleeping with Logan, but also of having something going on with Maas.

I'd need some kind of proof.

I watched the taillights of the SUV and rehashed the facts in my mind.

Liz had said that she's friends with Eames now.

And Goren.

And since she's dating Logan…

I wonder if Logan knows.

Probably.

It would be tough to keep a secret like that from a partner, and he's the type who would get off on the thought of pulling the wool over Moran's eyes.

So does that mean that Liz knows, too?

Has she been out with them, maybe on a double date?

I could just imagine the conversations that the four of them had together.

They'd probably laughed at my expense.

That thought was almost too much.

To picture Goren laughing while Logan probably made some crude joke about me…

I got up from the table and stalked out the door of the pub, feeling conflicted.

I was enraged by the idea of them mocking me, but I was also elated with my new, incriminating information.

And yet I was puzzled as to how to make it work for me.

And then I remembered what happened last weekend.

Stanley Maas had been at Eames' apartment.

Why?

Moran might have bought that house-sitting crap, but I sure didn't.

I let it go at the time, since I had no proof of…anything.

But why was he really there?

And how did it fit in with Goren and Eames sneaking around?

Or was it completely unrelated?

I needed to find out more about what was going on, and since Eames was presently driving Goren, she'd have to take him home at some point, so I decided to stake out his place.

Juvenile, probably, but I was getting desperate.

Tomorrow morning, Holt was going to announce that Eames gets to keep Major Case, and that's just unacceptable.

Especially now that I know she's in such flagrant violation of NYPD policy.

Thirty minutes later, I found myself parked outside of Goren's building.

There was no sign of the department SUV, and I was kind of disappointed about that.

I'd thought that maybe she was bringing him home and then going inside.

Would she really have just dropped him off and gone home?

Had I misinterpreted what I was seeing in the shadowy recesses of the front seat of the SUV?

No.

No way.

Goren had practically climbed into the driver's seat, that much I could tell, and there was no innocent explanation for that.

_So maybe I beat them here_, I thought suddenly.

Were they out somewhere, celebrating their impending victory over me?

I had to find out, so I got out of the car and talked my way into the building.

On my way upstairs, I thought about what I would say to Goren, if he happened to answer the door.

I could say..._thank you. Fo__r killing Hassan and giving me my life back._

But I don't know if I could get through that with a straight face.

He hadn't given me my life back.

He was trying to give _my_ life to his girlfriend.

Or at least my career anyway.

And the other half of my life was in the hands of his partner.

Literally.

And excuse the hell out of me for feeling a little bitter about the fact that not one damn person had been happy to see me alive.

And yeah, okay, so no one knew about me until it was also known that I was trying to take over as captain, but _still_…

What was it Liz had said to me?

_You just need to ease up and let people get used to the idea that you're back._

I know she was trying to be nice when she said it, but why should I have to ease up?

I have nearly a year of lost time to make up for.

What am I supposed to do – piddle around for another year while people get used to me again?

Was I supposed to let Eames make a mockery of Major Case with her ineptitude?

_Especially_ now…now that I know about her and Goren.

It only goes to prove my point even further that she doesn't belong in that damn office.

Her first priority is him.

Mine is the NYPD.

And Liz would've run a close second for me if not for Logan.

I can't even think his name without gritting my teeth.

Well, we'll see how much she wants him after I'm in charge.

He'll either be unemployed by virtue of his resignation letter, or he'll renege on his little stunt and then he'll be at my mercy.

And trust me, if he tries to stay in Major Case, he won't last long.

By this time, I was standing outside of Goren's door, and before I could lose my nerve, I knocked.

Silence.

I knocked again, but still nothing.

_So they're out_, I thought with satisfaction.

Good. I'll see them when she brings him home.

I went back to my car and re-parked so that I was in a good spot for surveillance.

I felt a little on the smarmy side for spying, but the desperation I feel about tomorrow's meeting was enough to override it.

So I settled in for the wait.

And it was a lot longer than I expected.

It was almost eleven o'clock when I saw the SUV pull over alongside the curb down the block.

_Pull over and park_, I amended with a smile.

I slid down a little in the seat and kept my eye on the vehicle until at last the driver's door opened.

I was surprised to see that Goren got out.

Since when does she let him drive?

Or maybe he took her home and then drove the car home?

Wouldn't _that_ be anticlimactic?

But then the passenger door came open, and out came Eames.

She was smiling broadly, possibly at something Goren was saying, and then she closed the door and met him at the front of the SUV.

Where she kissed him.

And let me tell you…guessing as to what was going on earlier, and seeing it under the glow of the street light were two completely different things.

I mean, I was their _boss_ for half a decade.

I worked late nights with them…sat in briefings with them…watched them do interrogations…and never once did I have a clue.

It was such a jolt to see them like this that I almost forgot what I was here to do.

Almost.

I watched as they finally broke off the kiss and then Goren took her by the hand and the two of them went inside of his building.

And then I waited for a little more than an hour to see if she'd come back out, but she didn't.

So _this_ explains why Maas was at her place.

Because she was _here_.

Which means that he knows about it, too.

The goddamn deputy chief of D's.

Maybe I should just forget about Major Case.

Maybe I should take Stanley's job instead.

I pondered that for a moment and then shook my head.

No, I'd start with Major Case.

Eventually, I want Moran's job, but even I can recognize the fact that I need to get re-acclimated with the workings of the NYPD before stepping into a role in the chief's office.

I headed for home since the show at Goren's apartment was apparently over.

Or at least, the show that I was going to get to see.

I could just imagine what was going on _inside_.

Better yet, I can imagine what Moran's face will look like when I tell him about it.

Because he's been standing up for her.

She'll be lucky if she gets to keep her badge after this fiasco.

That thought gave me pause for a moment because it's not that I want her to get fired. I really don't. I just want her somewhere other than in my office.

But she made her bed and now she has to lie in it.

_With Goren_, apparently.

I warned her about him years ago, telling her not to let him take her down with him, but she didn't listen to me.

So tomorrow I'll tell the mayor what I know and whatever happens, happens.

I went home and slept like a baby, and then the next morning, I awoke early and dressed in my best suit.

The meeting was scheduled for eight, and I made it to the lobby of 1PP by seven-forty.

"Hold the elevator!" I called out as I hustled across the parquet floor toward the back where one set of doors was halfway closed.

A hand popped out, sending the doors in the opposite direction just as I came to a stop in front of the elevator.

"Ross," Goren greeted stiffly.

"Detective," I said with a nod. I glanced around the elevator, surprised that there was no one with him. "Where's your sidekick?"

Eames…Logan…either one would've been expected, and I was curious to see how he answered the question.

"Upstairs."

Ambiguity.

I should've guessed it.

He raised his eyebrow at me questioningly and I realized that I was still standing in the lobby, holding up his progress.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I stepped on and let the doors close.

For some reason, I was almost nervous about being alone with him.

I pushed the button to the chief's floor, and I realized belatedly that the number was already illuminated.

"You have business with Moran?" I asked.

"No."

"Maas?"

"No."

"Oh," I said, giving up any pretense of having a conversation.

The elevator creeped along interminably and each of us stood on our respective sides, watching as the lights indicated our progress.

"You know, it's not personal," he said at last.

"What?"

"Our support of Captain Eames. It's not personal against you. We'd do the same thing no matter who tried to steal her job."

"I'm not trying to steal it," I argued defensively. "It's mine."

"It _was_ yours."

I sighed heavily and closed my mouth.

"You're stepping on the people who fought for you," he continued quietly. "I was outraged by your murder. I called you a friend. I risked my life…Eames and I both did, just so that we could find the person who ratted you out."

"Who ratted me out? What do you mean?"

"Are you kidding me? You never read the file?"

"Hassan's dead," I said flippantly. "What else do I need to know?"

I'd timed my remark for the opening of the doors on the appropriate floor, but Goren surprised me by reaching out to push the stop button.

"Stahl gave you up," he said as he turned towards me. "She was on Hassan's payroll. We infiltrated the FBI so that we could find the mole. Because we thought it was important to put some kind of meaning to your death."

"Yeah, I know. You gave up a year of your lives. I'm sure it was a hardship, being undercover with her, wasn't it?" I snapped cynically.

Because I didn't want to hear what he was trying to tell me.

That _I'm_ the bad guy in this, not him.

Not Eames.

It was too late for me to change my course of action now.

I had to go through with this and get my job back.

And then maybe I could see about making some kind of restitution.

He stared at me hard, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny, and I thought he was going to say something more, but then he reached over and hit the button, allowing the doors to spring open.

I hurried off the elevator and didn't look back until I arrived at the conference room door.

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him standing in the hall, still watching me carefully, and then he turned and headed in the direction of Maas' office.

"Lt. Ross," Moran called out through the open doorway. "I'm glad you're here. It's early, but you're still the last one, so let's go ahead and get this meeting underway."

That's right.

I'm Lt. Ross.

I hadn't mentioned that to anyone yet, but leave it to Moran to bark it out loud.

Apparently, the NYPD wants me to retest for captain.

According to what Holt told me on Tuesday, it won't affect my push for the captain's office because lieutenants can hold that position as long as the captain's exam is pending.

And since I already passed it once, it was surely just a formality.

But it was a humbling formality, and it really, _really_ gripes my ass to know that at the moment, Eames outranks me.

But that's fine.

Her humbling moment will come.

Very soon, in fact.

I entered the conference room and pulled the door closed behind me.

Eames and Maas were seated at the far end of the table. Zaring was in the middle and Holt was at the other end. Moran was on his feet, but then he moved towards the table, taking a seat near Maas.

Thus the lines were established.

I stayed on my feet and looked around the room.

"No need to sit, Ross. I think we can handle this quickly and efficiently," Holt began, and then he looked down the table at Eames and smiled and added, "Just like Major Case, right, Captain?"

"Yes, sir," she replied.

"Sir, if you don't mind, I'd like to say something first," I said to Holt.

"I'm not sure that's…"

"Please," I interrupted. "A very disturbing fact has come to my attention."

"Wait, let me guess," Moran said smartly. "Captain Eames is having an affair with me now, right?"

"No, sir," I said with a smile, ignoring his sarcasm. "But she is having an inappropriate relationship with one of her detectives."

"Ross, I'm tired of these allegations," Zaring spoke up in annoyance.

"I can understand that," I agreed. And then I pulled my phone from my pocket and held it up triumphantly as I said, "But this time I have pictures to prove it."

TBC...


	51. Chapter 51

**Alex POV**

* * *

><p>I stared at Ross as he held his phone up in the air and declared, "But this time I have pictures to prove it."<p>

"Pictures?" Zaring asked hesitantly. "What kind of pictures?"

"Incriminating ones," Ross said boldly, and then he shifted his focus to his phone, presumably to pull up said photos. Then he glanced up at me briefly and said snidely, "Just try to deny this, Captain."

He truly has pictures of me and Bobby?

From when? Last night?

It had to be. He wouldn't have been able to sit on damning evidence like that for any longer.

"You were running a surveillance gig on Captain Eames?" Holt asked, clearly completely puzzled by the latest turn of events.

Me, I was just speechless.

And that's probably a good thing.

Because there's honestly no telling what might've come out of my mouth.

But it wouldn't have been nearly as good as Moran's response.

"Ross, why in the hell would you take pictures of Captain Eames and Detective Goren?"

"Because…wait, you know about them?" Ross asked, echoing my exact question.

Because Ross hadn't been specific and he hadn't shown anyone the pictures yet.

I guess there's my answer to the age-old question of _does Moran know…_

"Kenny, what the hell is going on here?" Holt boomed. Then he looked at me and said, "Eames, do you want to explain yourself?"

"What is there to explain?" Stanley said quickly before I could respond.

He caught my eye across the table and subtly shook his head, telling me to let this play out, but it was also clear that he was just as surprised as me.

"What is there to explain?" Holt repeated. "Kenny…"

"There are no regulations against inter-departmental relationships," Moran stated firmly. "What my people do on their own time is up to them."

"What?" Ross shouted. "Since when?"

"The new rule went into effect about six weeks ago."

"I don't remember seeing anything like that come across my desk," Zaring said, although he didn't sound entirely sure of himself.

"We went over this," Moran told him, speaking to him much like a father would speak to a young child. "Remember? We had to clear it before Eames and Goren came back because they offered full disclosure about their relationship prior to their reinstatement."

"So you knew?" Ross asked dumbly.

"Yes, Lieutenant. Full disclosure is a fancy way of saying that I'm in the know."

"But…"

"But what? I didn't tell you?" Moran scoffed. "Honestly, it's none of your damn business, and I'm a little disturbed by the fact that you must have followed them in their off-hours in order to document their relationship."

"Why wasn't I made aware of this?" Holt asked, speaking to Moran while carefully looking me over.

"It's irrelevant," Moran answered, standing up from his chair and commanding the mayor's attention again. "And honestly, sir…handling the personnel within specific precincts is part of my job description, not yours. You only got involved because you wanted to entice Captain Eames to take the media position."

I've got to hand it to the man.

He's not afraid to speak his mind.

Maybe that's why he appreciates that I speak mine.

"As long as she's abiding by departmental rules, her personal life shouldn't be a factor when determining fitness for duty," Zaring added decisively, as though he'd known every detail all along.

"I agree," Holt said at last, turning to Ross and frowning at him in disapproval. "You've been gunning for Eames since you got back, and I'll admit that I was on board in the beginning. There's nothing wrong with a little healthy competition. But this has gone too far."

"How can you say that?" Ross argued. "She's his _boss_. Surely that's a violation!"

"Superior – subordinate relationships are outlined in the new regs," Stanley explained carefully. "Like the chief mentioned…we knew about their relationship prior to them coming back."

"You know, maybe you've been away for too long, Ross," Moran added. "You're out of the loop on NYPD policies, and you clearly haven't bothered to try to catch up. I guess now we all know how you've been spending your free time."

"I haven't been following her around," Ross fired back. "It was coincidental that I ran into them."

"And you just happened to have your phone out, taking pictures?" Zaring questioned, and I swear, I felt like kissing the man.

All of them, actually.

Every damn one of them in the room.

Well, except for Ross.

Although maybe even him, too, because his prickishness was suddenly making my life a whole lot easier.

And a whole lot better.

Because now my relationship with Bobby is out in the open, and everyone just agreed that it's perfectly fine as far as the NYPD is concerned.

Which means we can get married.

Not this weekend or anything.

But soon.

I had to work hard to keep from smiling while the conversation around me continued.

"Look, I thought it was something that you should be made aware of," Ross stated, still holding out his phone, obviously hoping someone would be interested in seeing his pictures.

"You thought it would get you the captain's job," Stanley corrected.

"Enough," Holt stated. "I'm done."

He paused and looked around the room, presumably waiting for all of us to focus on him.

"Captain Eames, I apologize for my indecisiveness over the past week. You've done an exceptional job. And Zaring tells me that you're willing to do weekly press conferences, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Major Case remains yours."

"Sir…" Ross began, but Holt held up a finger, halting his statement.

"I'm not finished," the mayor asserted. Then he turned to Moran and asked, "Don't you still have a precinct without a captain?"

"Yes, sir. The 6-8."

"There you go, Ross. Effective eight o'clock Monday morning, you're the captain of the 6-8 in Brooklyn. Get in touch with Denise to find out when she can put you on the schedule for your captain's exam. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Ross answered quietly.

"Good. And you might want to take the weekend to read the NYPD regulations. It seems you're a little out of date."

Ross nodded, and I could tell he was biting his tongue.

It had to be demoralizing for him, to be spoken to with such condescension, especially in front of me, but…what can I say?

He's the one who put himself in this situation.

Holt checked his watch and said, "I've got another meeting in thirty minutes back at my office.

"I'll walk you out," Zaring offered, quickly moving ahead so that he could open the door for the mayor. He glanced back at me and smiled and said, "First press conference on Monday morning, okay, Captain?"

"Sure," I agreed.

Hell, I wasn't going to admit it to him, but after what just happened in this meeting, I would've agreed to do one every day of the week.

With Zaring and Holt gone, Ross stood awkwardly for a moment, and then he finally said, "Congratulations, Eames. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other around."

"I'm sure we will," I replied.

I wanted to add _lieutenant_ on the end of that, since he'd pointedly left off _captain_, but I held back.

I'm just too happy for biting words.

Once Ross left, I turned and looked at Moran and Stanley, and found them both staring at me.

"What just happened?" I asked.

"I believe I just saved your ass," Moran said wryly.

"You lied about the regulations."

"No, that part's true. Well, except for the part about how long they've been in effect."

"But I didn't disclose…"

"I'm sure you wanted to," Moran interrupted. "And that's water under the bridge. Water we're never going to speak of again, okay? The regs are backdated. They went to Zaring's office a couple of days ago, courtesy of Denise. She filed them where they belong."

"This is…I'm just…"

"It shouldn't have come to this," Stanley said. "Ross was following you two? Come on…that's petty and unprofessional and…"

"And it might've worked if I'd guessed wrong," Moran pointed out.

"But you didn't," I remarked, the question in my words obvious.

"No. Why do you think I never asked you about Goren? I knew you wouldn't lie, and I didn't want to know. But Stanley made a good argument on your behalf. And it finally occurred to me that if it was true and yet no one was able to guess it, then what difference does it make who you go home to? You two obviously know how to separate personal and professional."

"Yes, sir," I agreed.

"But keep doing it," he said with a grin. "Just because I know doesn't mean I want to catch you two making out in the elevator."

"Of course not," I said quickly. "What about me being his boss?"

"Goren gets evaluated by me," Stanley explained. "And if there's any need for disciplinary action, the kind that gets documented in his jacket…that's me, too. That way your potential bias is eliminated from the equation."

"Bias?" I questioned teasingly. "You think I'd be biased?"

"No, but that's your party line to give to the press should any questions arise. Because I don't know about you two, but I don't trust that Ross will so willingly walk away."

"You think he's going to feed it to the press and try to stir something up?"

"Maybe. But it won't matter. Everything's in writing now. Zaring believes he's had it all along, and Holt's already moved on to the next thing that might get him further ahead in his political career."

I shook hands with Moran and Maas, even though I wanted to grab them both in bear hugs, and then I left the conference room, heading for Stanley's office where Bobby and Mike were waiting for me.

"Well?" Mike asked, hopping to his feet as I came in the door. Bobby got up, too, only he looked a lot more nervous.

"Ross knows, doesn't he? About us," he said quietly. "How bad is it?"

"Well, if you call me keeping my job and Moran going to bat for us as _bad_, then…"

"Moran? You mean…he knows?"

"I'm telling you, Bobby. We owe him. Ross took pictures of us."

"I knew he had something," he replied. "I wanted to text you, to warn you, but there just wasn't time."

"He took pictures?" Mike asked in outrage. "When? Where?"

"I didn't see them, so I'm not sure, but if I had to guess, I'd say either at the corner or outside of Bobby's apartment."

"Uh huh," Bobby agreed with a nod. "Because it had to be last night. Otherwise he would've used them already. And unless he set up surveillance in my apartment…"

I shuddered at the thought, but then smiled at Bobby, loving how he came to the exact same conclusion as me.

"So now what?" Mike asked. "We just go back to work? And everything's normal?"

"No. You're on vacation. I'll see you Monday morning. Or better yet, Sunday night for dinner, if you get back in town early enough."

"And me?" Bobby asked as a smile spread across his face.

"You have to go to work," I answered. "But just until noon, and then you're done, too."

"That sounds an awful lot like bias to me," Stanley said as he came into his office.

"Don't start with me, Stanley. I just about had a heart attack in there. You knew Moran had signed the regs already? Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't know. That was all him. I mean, I've been plugging for it, pretty hard, but he never told me that he'd done it."

"And he got Denise to file them in Zaring's office, as if it happened back at the first of the year," I explained to Bobby and Mike. "We gave full disclosure before we came back. It's all on the up and up."

"Including…" Bobby began and then he trailed off and purposely looked down at my left hand.

"No," Stanley said quickly. "Give us a week or two to put this behind us, will you?"

"Yes, sir," I answered as I headed for the door. Mike and Bobby followed and then I paused in the doorway, turning back to Stanley. "And thank you. Really. Without you, this whole thing would've turned out…differently."

He gave me a nod and then sat down at his desk.

"Oh, and Stanley," Bobby added. "Sunday night at Pete's. Bring Traci."

He grinned at us and then waved us out, so the three of us headed for the elevator.

Once we were on, Mike turned his back to us and said, "Go ahead. You know you want to."

"Uh uh," I joked. "Moran specifically mentioned no making out on the elevator."

"Did he say anything about hugging?" Bobby asked as he pulled me into his arms.

"No, he didn't."

"Good," he said. And then he leaned down and said softly into my ear, "Congratulations, Captain. The best man _did_ win."

**The End.**


End file.
